


Songbird

by Faequeen40



Series: Within the Gilded Cage [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Disney References, Emotional/Psychological Trauma, Eye Trauma, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff and Angst, Galra Keith (Voltron), Illustrated, Kissing, M/M, Manipulation of Genetics, Mentions of Galra Biology, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Original Galra Characters - Freeform, So much angst, character injury, post season two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-08 05:32:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 105,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10379589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faequeen40/pseuds/Faequeen40
Summary: After an ambush on a strange planet, Lance gets captured in Keith's place. Will the others be able to rescue him before Lotor breaks his new prize?*Now with art!*





	1. Of Ambushes and Revelations

**Author's Note:**

> This is kinda in the nebulous area after season two ends. The team has found Shiro again but Zarkon is still around, doing general Zarkon things.  
> Super in love with the hype around Prince Lotor and thus this lovely plot bunny was born.

The mission had been a simple one in hind sight. A routine excursion to a largely quiet planet that the Castle had detected a distress signal from.

It was only once the Lions had breached the atmosphere of the heavily forested planet that everything went to hell.

Seven kinds of hell, to be exact.

Keith banked sharply to the left, the very tip of Red’s claws just barely evading the blast of the ion cannon that fired upon him. Four large purple battleships had suddenly appeared in the sky of the planet, the weather rapidly turning to rough winds and storm clouds as the Galra made their move. Keith was recovering quickly from the sudden appearance of the newly-uncloaked battleships but it soon became clear that the other paladins were rattled.

“Where the hell did they come from?” Lance screeched, the piercing quality of his voice making Keith flinch, his sensitive hearing making the note unbearable.

A hastily muffled curse echoed through the com, a string of Spanish profanity coming from Lance’s channel as Blue danced away from the rapidly firing fighters that descended from the battleships.

“It doesn’t matter where they came from. What’s important is that we need to regroup!” Shiro called, a pillar of steel in his voice, “We need to form Voltron.”

“Easier said than done right now, Shiro.” Keith groused, slamming forward on the controls, lava roaring from Red’s maw to eliminate the fighters in front of him, “I don’t think they’re going to give us the time to regroup!”

“We have to try!” Shiro hissed, a dark streak cutting across the sky as Black flew, explosions marking her path across the clouds.

“Is there anything we can use to our advantage?” Lance called, his Lion flitting closer to Yellow, ice coating the battleship he was fleeing, “There has to be something!”

Laser fire filled Keith’s view momentarily and he hissed as Red jerked sharply under the barrage. He growled under his breath as he maneuvered, body pressed back into his pilot’s chair as Red rolled and dove to escape the crowd on her tail. Once he managed some distance, they flipped around, lava annihilating the threat. He paused for a moment, glancing quickly at the screens on his control panel, noting the slight damage to Red’s side.

Above him the clouds roiled, finally releasing their load in the form of heavy rain, lightning sparking across the sky and striking the side of one of the battleships. An explosion rocked one side and Keith suppressed a grin as Lance whooped over the com. “Finally something good!”

“It’s not over yet.” Hunk said worriedly, Yellow staying close to Blue as the two Lions held off the fighters accosting them.

“I have something that might help.” Pidge said, her voice steady even as Green twisted around the side of the exploding ship, “My scanner says there’s a mountain range close by. The storm must have masked it. We might be able to lose some of the fighters in there and regroup.”

“Nice eyes, Pidge.” Shiro grinned, “Alright, paladins, let’s lose them!”

Keith felt a wide smirk stretch his face, hands moving expertly over the controls as he led the way in the direction Pidge indicated, the smallest of the hills leading up to the mountains becoming visible as he rocketed towards the range. Red cut through the air smoothly, her speed leaving the speeders in the dust as she ducked between the hills and ridges. Fighters exploded behind him as missed the sharp turns and twists that he made, crashing hard into the cliffs and valleys of the broad valley.

Keeping an eye on the map to his right, Keith spun through the air with Red, letting himself get lost in the sheer joy of flight for just a moment before he dove deeper into the range, his own red blinker drawing ever closer to the black, blue, green, and yellow blinkers.

He skidded around a cliff side just in time to narrowly miss Blue and he frowned at the com as Lance squawked in alarm. “Watch where you’re going Mullet!”

“Reflexes getting a little slow?” Keith teased, chest lightening at the outraged noises coming from Lance’s end.

“Maybe your piloting’s getting a little slow.” Lance returned, the tone of his voice giving Keith the perfect mental image of his cocky grin, “Galra Keith seems a bit sloppy.”

“Don’t project yourself onto me, Lance.” Keith deadpanned, rolling his eyes at the Galra modifier that Hunk had apparently gotten Lance to start using.

“I don’t project anything but awesome.”

“As cute as you two are, if you could stop flirting, we’d really like to form Voltron now.” Pidge said loudly, her face speaking volumes from where her video screen was projected on Keith’s panel.

Immediately flushing, Keith sent a look at her screen before dragging a hand down his face in exasperation. Grumbling under his breath, he opened one of the private lines to Green and flicked the switch to mute himself in the group com, Lance’s laughter echoing over the line. “Pidge, you are not helping.”

“How am I not helping, Casanova?” She chirped, blinking her eyes innocently, “I only tried to get you two back on task.”

“I wasn’t flirting.”

“Oh really?” Pidge smirked, “Goodness. That crush must have gone away pretty fast.”

“I don’t know why we tell you anything.”

“You wouldn’t know what to do without me.” Pidge cackled, “But trust me, Keith, I’m doing you a favor. Did you hear him deny that you were flirting?”

Keith paused for a moment before his eyes widened. Pidge nodded at him before giving him a wink. “You’re welcome.”

Momentarily stunned by the information, Keith flipped on the group line almost absently, jumping when Shiro’s voice roared through the com. “Come on! Form Voltron!”

Keith leapt into action alongside the others, reveling-as he always did- in that remarkable, almost ethereal feeling that came along with being joined into Voltron with the others.

He felt whole as if a part of himself had been missing for so long, the slight brushes of the other minds of the paladins putting him more at ease despite the overwhelming danger that they currently found themselves in.

After so long in space together and the battles they fought, forming Voltron was nearly effortless. In a matter of moments, the Legendary Defender of the Universe stood amongst the mountain range, the pour of the rain nothing to the colossal robot.

“Alright guys, let’s go take care of this.” Shiro encouraged, his energy along the bond strong and comforting, a breeze at one’s back on the way home.

“They won’t even know what’s coming.” Lance snarked, his mind making Keith think of the mischievous waves of Earth.

“We gotta be careful with this storm.” Pidge cautioned, the solemnity and peace of the forest in her section of the bond “We saw what the lightning did to that battleship. I’m not sure what would happen if we were struck.”

“Plus, it would be awhile before we could get anything fixed. I can’t really reach Allura or Coran right now.” Hunk added, a feeling of tremulous but steady earth emanating from Voltron’s left leg.

“Then we’ll just have to take care of this fast.” Keith said confidently, feeling Red’s fire blaze through his veins, driving his adrenaline higher.

They nodded as one, flying from out of the mountain range under the cover of the storm. As they drew closer to the battleships, Keith plunged his bayard into its slot, the sword of Voltron forming in his Lion’s grasp. “Let’s take down the battleship that got struck first. It’s already weakened so it should be an easy target.”

“Yes sir.” Keith answered, gripping the controls in front of him with relish.

The rain and clouds covered their approach, letting them hover over the damaged battleship before the first of the fighters noticed them. With a wild cry, Keith pressed forward on his controls, Voltron’s sword whistling through the air as they descended. The blade bit into the scorched side of the ship, cleanly slicing through it and sending it crashing to the empty forest below.

In another swift movement, Voltron turned, a graceful change in direction pushing the sword through the mass of fighters that attempted to bring them down. Keith could feel Lance at the back of his mind, pride in their accomplishment and it made his stomach flop.

Maybe he could try talking to Lance a little more when they made their way back to the Castle.

The blistering screech of an ion canon pulled Keith back from his reverie and he shook his head dismissively, mumbling curses under his breath. Damn Lance and his distracting….everything.

“Keith, focus.” Shiro called, “Two more battleships to go. We aren’t going to be able to sneak up on them.”

“I got it.” Keith snapped, adjusting his grip on the controls in front of him.

Voltron pressed forward through the fray, blade and shield alternatively slicing and bashing against the fighters that drove against them. “The Galra have entirely too many fighter ships.” Lance whined, “Like seriously? How many could they possibly have? They have to run out sometime right?”

“They’ve had ten thousand years to build up their arsenal. Maybe they have some kind of factory?” Hunk mused, the two legs beginning to engage in a heated debate over their theoretical factory.

“Lance, Hunk. Not the time.” Shiro sighed, directing Voltron through the ebbing tide of fighters to the second battleship, “Keith, on three!”

“One.”

“Two.”

A sharp crack of lightning drowned out the sound of Shiro’s voice and Keith screamed as Red’s cockpit immediately lit up with blue light, the screens and panels sparking dangerously. His body felt like it was on fire, electricity shrieking through the metal of the pilot’s chair.

The feeling passed as soon as it happened and Keith shuddered in his chair, limbs still jerking erratically from his electrocution. “Keith! Buddy, answer us!” Lance yelled, the com blazing back to life in the wake of the strike.

Red pressed at his mind insistently, her end of the link awash with pain, confusion and worry. “I’m okay.” Keith gasped, trying and failing to get his limbs under control, “Just, just give me a minute.”

“I don’t think we have a minute.” Hunk hissed, “That ion cannon is about to fire.”

“Keith, we’re gonna pull back.”

“No!” Keith roared, “We can do this. I can do this. I’m fine. Keep going!”

He could feel their worry at the back of his mind but he pressed forward, slowly regaining the sensation in his hands. He jammed his controls forward, the sword in his grasp slicing into the ion cannon with wild abandon. Keith’s shaking hands jerked along, the sword darting into the battleship once more and retreating when the ship burst into flames.

“One more.” Keith panted, his body screaming at him as he continued to cling to consciousness, “We only need to take down one more.”

“We need to pull back.” Shiro said sternly, “You just took a lightning strike. We have no idea what that did to your lion, Keith.”

“Red and I are fine, Shiro!” Keith growled, “We need to take of this threat now. The more battleships we take down, the more we hurt Zarkon. Let’s finish this.”

Keith could sense Shiro’s disapproval over the sheer wave of worry coming from the others but he set his jaw firmly, waiting. Finally, Shiro sighed in resignation. “Fine. But we are going to talk about this when we get back to the castle.”

Voltron flew forward, the fighters mostly decimated by this point and the final battleship all but defenseless underneath their assault. The blade brought the ship to a swift end and Keith breathed a sigh of relief as Hunk and Lance whooped at their victory. He cast a glance to his screen, frowning when he could see Pidge staring at him in worry. “We really need to get back to the castle and get you and Red checked out. You’re not looking so good.”

Keith turned his head, stalwartly not looking at Pidge as the familiar wholeness of Voltron came undone, the one returning to the original five. Red floated silently for a moment before perking up at last, flying alongside her sisters towards the atmosphere of the planet.

“So is it safe to say that yet another distress signal turned out to be a trap?” Lance said dryly, a wry look on his face as Keith looked at the screen.

“I know the Paladin Code or whatever says we have to go help every time, but there’s gotta be a better way right?” Hunk offered, “You know a way that doesn’t end up with us ambushed?”

“Maybe that’s something that we can bring up to Allura? Get eyes on the situation first?” Pidge suggested, “We could put together some kind of scout bots maybe? I still have some scrap left from that trash planet we found.”

“Let me know how that works out.” Shiro said approvingly, “It can help us act quicker in real emergencies too.”

Keith let the voices of his teammates wash over him, feeling woozy and tired now that the adrenaline from battle was beginning to wear off. He could vaguely see Blue from the corner of his eye and Lance’s worried face soon came to dominate his screen. “Lancelot to Mullet. How is everything? You’ve been pretty quiet.”

“I’m good, Lance. Just got struck by lightning. Feeling a little tired.” Keith deflected, letting himself stare at the screen in front of him.

Lance’s oceanic eyes looked him over searchingly before crinkling as he smiled. “We’ll get you some time in the pod when we get back. You feel like sparring when you’re back to 100%? I’d hate to kick your ass before then.”

“Were you the one struck by lightning? Because last time I checked, you’ve never beaten me.”

“First time for everything fly boy.”

Keith chuckled at that, wryly noticing how Lance’s face lit up at the sound.

Maybe he had a chance after all.

He opened his mouth to respond when a great hulking mass filled his view, the sharp purple edges drawing his attention away from Lance. The view screen collapsed immediately and Keith stared at the massive ship with trepidation.

It was similar in size to the great flagship of Zarkon’s fleet but the designs were more elegant, an emphasis on aesthetic over sheer terrifying power.

The ship was beautiful in a warped, horrifying way.

A view screen opened abruptly, static filling it before it melted away to reveal an unfamiliar face.

They were undoubtedly Galra. The sharply pointed ear, lavender skin and viciously serrated teeth left no doubt to that part of their heritage. But unlike the Galra they were familiar with, this one had long pale hair and striking crimson lines tracing patterns on their face, eerily similar to the witch, Haggar.

“Greetings, paladins of Voltron.” They said smoothly, voice deep and sibilant in a way that made all of Keith’s survival instincts shriek.

Whoever this was, they were bad news.

“I apologize for the delay in our introductions. Father has been quite selfish in keeping you to himself.” The Galra purred, “I am Prince Lotor, heir to the Galra Empire and High Commander of the Eastern Territory. And never fear paladins, there’s no need to trip over each other to show yourselves to me. I already know _all_ about you.”

Keith flinched as he made eye contact with the Prince, Red’s unease growing with every moment the flagship hovered in front of them.

“When I discovered you had strayed into my humble corner of the universe, I simply couldn’t resist coming to meet you myself. Especially when I learned you have a half-breed among you. I must insist upon a chat. We are a rare breed after all. Not many races survive birthing a half-Galra. We are quite special. What do you say, Red Paladin?”

Rage flooded Keith and he gripped Red’s controls so hard his knuckles creaked, Red’s growls answering in his head. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“That really is too bad. But as I said before, I really must insist. We are kin, you and I. You don’t belong with the Paladins of Voltron.”

Old doubts threatened to rear their heads at Lotor’s words but he squashed them mercilessly, weight in his chest lifting when he heard Lance scoff.

“You must be as dumb as you are pretty if you thought that would work. Voltron is _exactly_ where Keith belongs.”

“A pity then. I’ll have to do this the hard way.”

A high-pitched whine was the only warning they received before a wide beam shot from the front of the flagship, the searing light catching both Red and Blue despite their best attempts to dodge it.

Both paladins screamed as they caught the psychic backlash of their Lions’ pain, Red’s systems flickering as the damage she had sustained earlier was compounded by the newest hit. She abruptly tilted and Keith swore.

The heavily forested earth of the planet below rushed up to greet them, Keith frantically pulling on the useless controls in an effort to level out his freefall, Lance’s swearing and the cries of their teammate’s flickering through the com.

“Hold on you two. We’re on our way!” Shiro yelled, the Black Lion diving after her damaged sisters.

“Shiro! They’re going to fire again!” Hunk relayed, Yellow trying her best in incapacitate the heavily armored cannon. “I can’t take it out!”

“Shiro, you have to move!” Keith roared, “Lance and I can figure it out!”

“Damn it, Keith! I’m almost to you!”

“Shiro, Keith’s right.” Lance groaned, “Just keep Prince Fancypants busy. Once we crash, we’ll keep a com open and find a way to get out of here.”

Precious seconds ticked by as Shiro hesitated, the high pitched whining beginning to ring in Keith’s ears once more.

“Protect each other.” Shiro said at last, Black turning on a dime to return to the flagship, jawblade gleaming in the flashes of lightning.

Keith let his breath out slowly, Red’s controls sluggish under his hands. “Come on girl. We have to slow down.”

Weakly, Red responded, her efforts aided as Blue flew closer, shielding her smaller sister with her larger, less damaged body. Despite their actions, they crashed through the trees with bruising force and the sounds of screeching metal.

Their final impact rocked both Lions and Keith jerked forward hard, slamming his forehead off the panel in front of him. His head spun from the hit, black spots dotting his vision as something hot trickled down the side of his face.

“Keith, my man, please talk to me.”

Silence reigned for a moment as Keith tried to gather his thoughts, a groan escaping him at first. “I’m here, Lance. I smacked my head off something but I’m okay.”

“So says the guy who just got electrocuted. I’m coming in. Have Red open up.”

Keith sighed heavily in response, reaching out to Red gently. His lion purred at him, a weak jibe about his crush directed into his brain before she opened her mouth, allowing the Blue Paladin inside.

Footsteps echoed across Red’s interior and Keith tried to pull himself to his feet, eyebrows furrowing in confusion when he couldn’t quite keep his balance.

Lance ducked into the cockpit just as Keith stumbled into the back of his chair, dizziness and nausea urging him to curl over the side.

“Jesus!” Lance exclaimed, rushing to Keith’s side and throwing one of his arms over his shoulder.

“Nope. Just Keith.” Keith said dryly, looking at Lance with what he hoped was a deadpan expression.

The Latino boy only gave him an unimpressed stare before snaking his arm around Keith’s ribs, his tight grip making Keith very thankful for the darkened lights of his lion. Lance wouldn’t be able to see how badly he was blushing.

“Come on, mullet. Let’s get you outside so I can do some damage control. Blue is still good to fly so if we need to, I can carry Red long enough to get back to the Castle. She’s not looking too hot right now.”

“Are the others doing okay up there?” Keith slurred, growing increasingly alarmed by his own sluggish thoughts and delayed response.

Lance looked at him in concern before pressing the com on his helmet. Keith stared for a moment before absently looking around the cockpit for his own helmet. He opened his mouth to ask Lance about it but quickly grew distracted at the intense look in Lance’s eyes.

“Shiro says that the flagship seems to be retreating. They ended up pushing quite a ways from where we crashed. They…why are you staring at me?”

“Why are your eyes so pretty? It’s distracting.” Keith mumbled, his own eyes narrowed and not entirely sure if he said any of that out loud.

“Seems you hit your head harder than we thought.” Lance smiled, pulling Keith with him as they made their way out of the Lion.

Keith immediately flushed but his muddled thoughts pushed him on. “You didn’t answer my question,” He groaned, “Why are you so pretty?”

“Good genetics.” Lance winked, “And a good skin care routine.”

“S’not fair. Too pretty. Makes me all stupid and stuff when we fight.” Keith admitted quietly, his head throbbing and making his thoughts further fragment.

“You’re starting to worry me, Keith.” Lance said seriously, “We need to get you back to the Castle.”

Lance peered at him in the light of the Blue Lion, fingers gentle as he pushed Keith’s fringe away from the wound. The rain quickly soaked the two of them and Keith let out a happy sigh when Lance slicked his bangs back with a chuckle.

“It’s not as bad as I thought. You were bleeding a lot but it looks pretty small. Now I’m just worried about your concussion.” Lance murmured, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

Keith reveled in Lance’s attention, a quiet purr rumbling in his chest at the gentle press of Lance’s fingers in Keith’s hair.

Lance looked confused for a moment before an indulgent smile crossed his face and he petted Keith’s hair more insistently. “I love your little purr.” Lance said lowly, enthralling eyes half-lidded and his face much closer than it had been a moment ago, “It’s cute.”

“’M not cute.” Keith argued, the haze brought on by his injury making him bolder and almost floaty.

“Hate to break it to you, mullet, but you’re the cutest.”

A small smile fought its way onto Keith’s face and Lance chuckled. “Come on. Let’s get back to the castle and meet up with the others. You need to get your concussion checked out.”

Keith whined at the loss of Lance’s fingers in his hair and shivered in the downpour. “Are you gonna forget this bonding moment too?”

Lance’s immediate laugh made Keith’s stomach flip, his tiny smile growing in magnitude. “At this point, I’m more worried about you forgetting it. Besides, I’d be upset if I couldn’t remember as you are right now.”

Lance’s voice deepened as he spoke, the timbre of it sending a shiver up Keith’s spine that had nothing to do with the rain or the cold.

Abruptly, Keith panicked, mind going blank as his face flooded with color. What was he doing?

“Are you flirting with me?” He blurted, blush intensifying when Lance barked out a laugh.

“Have been for a while, thanks for noticing.” Lance said softly, sliding a hand through his own hair.

“But….why?”

Lance frowned at that, expression becoming worried. “Was I reading it wrong? Am I making you uncomfortable? Keith, I’m sorry, I can stop. God, I’m so stupid…”

“No!” Keith cried, the word leaving him almost involuntarily, “No, I was definitely flirting back, please don’t stop. I just…I don’t understand? First we were rivals and I was pretty sure you hated me but when we lost Shiro and found him again, you’ve been different. Just why me? Why now?”

Lance’s eyes darkened with understanding and he slid a hand up along Keith’s jaw. “Why not you? I don’t think you give yourself enough credit, Keith. When Shiro disappeared, you did your best. You led us and we found Shiro again. Yeah. At the beginning, I was pretty awful to you but I don’t think you understand how amazing you are. Your flying, your fighting…Keith, I wanted so badly for someone to notice me the way I noticed you. It wasn’t until we lost Shiro that I really started to understand how I feel about you. You’re beautiful, mullet.”

Keith choked on the sudden lump in his throat, his eyes burning as he leaned his face into Lance’s hand. “We’re stupid.”

“I’m pretty awesome.”

Keith glared at him, heat fading from his eyes when he saw the soft gaze Lance was giving him. “Lance, I really like you. I like your jokes, even if some of them still go right over my head. I love how pretty you are, how your eyes remind me of Earth.” Keith said quietly, placing one of his hands over Lance’s, holding Lance’s gaze resolutely and ignoring the roiling of his stomach as he blurted his feelings, “You’re probably the best marksman I’ve ever seen and there isn’t anyone I trust more to watch my back.”

“You were doing so well until the end.” Lance chuckled wetly, blinking quickly.

“What was wrong with the end?”

“You brought up fighting together, you perfect little soldier.”

“We are literally in the middle of a war, Lance.” Keith said dryly, frowning at the beautiful idiot he had managed to catch feelings for.

“I’m well aware of that, _cari_ _ño._ All the more reason to take advantage of every moment we have together.” Lance whispered, pressing his forehead again Keith’s gingerly, the very tips of their noses brushing.

Keith felt his breath still in his chest, his heart beating so fast that he was convinced that it was going to rattle its way out of his ribcage. He was so close to Lance that he could see all the different shades of blue that made up his eyes, the icy crystalline color that hugged the edges of his dilated pupils and the deep midnight that made up the furthest part of his iris. Those eyes pulled him in and Keith wanted nothing more than to drown in their depths.

Neither moved for a moment, caught up in each other, barely breathing as they each waited for the other to make a move. At last, Keith’s impulsive impatience made the decision and he pushed forward, pressing his lips to Lance’s.

He silently reveled in the sensation of Lance’s impossibly soft lips against his own, Lance’s long fingers coming to tangle in Keith’s hair, pent up emotion urging them forward.

A tiny groan pulled itself from Keith’s throat when Lance pulled just slightly at the roots, their kiss breaking long enough to register the absence of sound and rain around them.

Alarm immediately flooded Lance’s face and he looked up, eyes going wide in fear. “Looks like they didn’t fuck off after all.” He breathed, eyes returning to Keith’s face with an intensity that rattled Keith to the core, “They aren’t getting you.”

Keith looked up as well, blood going cold as he registered the flagship hovering above them, lights homing in on where both Lions were crashed. He looked back to Lance, barely registering Lance’s determined expression. “What happened to the others?”

“They’re on the other side of the planet, convinced that Prince Fancypants ran off. They won’t make it in time.” Lance hissed, looking at his Lion intently.

“What are you doing?” Keith said slowly, thoughts still moving too slowly but a pit in his stomach warning him that something was brewing in Lance’s head.

“I wouldn’t be able to escape them while carrying Red and there’s no way in hell I’ll leave either of you here.” Lance reasoned, a strange expression on his face, “Lotor seems pretty fixated on you. Probably some weird ploy to get you to ‘switch sides’ so there’s no way he’d let Red get away and she needs repairs.”

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t you dare.” Keith growled, taking a step backwards, realization making him feel cold.

“You can yell at me later, _hermoso._ But he’s not getting you. Especially not with how bad your head is right now. I’ll have a better chance of getting away.” Lance said earnestly, trailing his fingers along Keith’s jaw, “I’m sorry.”

Before Keith could respond, Lance shoved him backwards roughly, making Keith stumble backwards into Blue’s mouth, her teeth closing with a sharp click. “Get him out of here, girl!”

Keith scrambled forward, slamming him fists against the metal that made up Blue’s jaws. “No! Lance, no! Don’t do this!”

“This was all I could come up with.” Lance replied, “Get back to the Castle. Get him out of here!”

Blue stood abruptly, her hesitance clear in her movements. “Please. Blue. Don’t let him do this.” Keith begged, feeling as Blue lifted into the air, “We have to go back for him.”

Keith skidded through Blue, shoving himself into the cockpit and falling into the pilot’s chair as Blue wove to avoid the flagship. He pulled at the useless controls desperately, trying to convince Blue to go back, begging her with any words he could manage.

When they were no longer under the shadow of the flagship, Blue turned at last, a desperate roar echoing through the forest as they saw Red caught in a tractor beam, eyes dark and jaw clenched shut.  

Keith stared at the steadily rising form of his lion, knowing that Lance was hiding inside. “Blue, we can’t leave him. I won’t leave him like this.”

Blue growled in response, a mixture of anger and sadness emanating from the lion around him. “Take me to him, please!”

A moment of silence reigned before the coms clicked on, the other paladins becoming audible to him. “Lance! Finally! We thought something happened to you and Keith.” Hunk said cheerfully, “The creepy Prince guy ran off after we chased him around. Managed to break his crazy cannon and everything. He won’t be bothering us for a while!”

Keith’s breath hitched in an aborted sob at Hunk’s exuberance, the chatter of Hunk and Pidge going oddly quiet as Keith tried and failed to control the rage and grief welling up in him.

“Lance? Lance what’s wrong?”

A view screen popped up and Keith buried his face in his hands as Pidge badly stifled a gasp. “Keith? What are you doing in Blue? Where’s Lance?”

“He-He’s in Red.” Keith huffed, black spots returning to his vision, “He locked me in Blue and made her take me away. Lotor has Lance.”

A hoarse sob ripped its way from his chest and he gripped his hair in his hand, dizziness and darkness fading his vision.

“Keith! Keith stay with us!” Shiro yelled, “Pidge, I need a status on Red. Where is she now?”

“Red is in the flagship.” Pidge responded, a distinct edge of panic in her voice, “Shiro, they’re taking off!”

Static filled the coms for a moment before Allura’s voice filled the cockpit, weariness evident in her tone. “Paladins, there is a fleet approaching the castle. I need you to return immediately. The Castle defenses will be enough to hold them off briefly but not forever.”

“One of the Lions is in the possession of the enemy, Princess. We can’t leave yet!” Shiro said desperately, “Lance is on one of the Galra ships.”

The blackness in Keith’s vision grew darker and he swayed in the seat, his earlier electrocution and current concussion not helping him as he worked himself into a fury over the beautiful, selfless moron he had just kissed in the forest of a strange planet.

“Please. We have to get him back.” Keith whispered, his voice reedy and weak.

A huge burst of static made all the paladins flinch before blaster fire was audible through the coms. “Why are you all still here?!” Lance yelled through the coms, “Keith needs a pod right now. Go!”

“Lance we aren’t leaving you!” Hunk said, his voice thick through the coms.

“Keith is injured. I’m not.” Lance replied, a note of finality in his tone, “If something happens to him…..Just, please, I need him to be okay. I can wait for him to be okay. Besides, Prince Fancypants doesn’t scare me. Just hurry, okay?”

“Lance, don’t make us do this!” Pidge roared, “Don’t make us choose between you!”

“There’s no choice, Pidgey. Just take care of him for me. We have unfinished business.”

“I’m going to punch you right in your pretty face.” Pidge sobbed, Green materializing in front of Blue.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

“Lance.” Keith breathed, voice hoarse, “Why?”

“Because I love you.”

~~~~

 

Lance flipped the com off after his confession, heart pounding in his chest.

He was so scared. Here he was trapped in Keith’s unresponsive Lion, currently holding off the waves of droids that had forced Red’s jaws open in an effort to recover what they thought was the Red Paladin.

There were so many of them.

With a deep breath, he steeled himself, bayard firing almost constantly in his hands. Droids piled up by the mouth of the Lion, their destroyed remains funneling the droids in one at a time, making it easy for him to pick off their numbers. Eventually, they stopped coming and silence reigned.

Footsteps echoed and Lance tensed as they came all the way to the other side of the droid barrier. “I’m rather impressed with how long you’ve held off my droids, paladin.” A darkly familiar voice crooned, “But it’s time to give up the fight. There are several high powered cannons currently aimed at this Lion. Unless you wish for it to be destroyed, surrender.”

“How do I know you won’t destroy it anyway?”

“Because I have no use for a destroyed Lion.” The voice sighed dramatically, “I do not wish to draw my Father’s ire for such an ill-advised plan. However, if you do not cooperate, I will risk it.”

The fear returned with a vengeance and Lance had to readjust his shaking grip on his bayard. “Do not keep me waiting, paladin. I am not known for my patience.”

Lance rose from his crouch at the back of the cargo hold, each step closer to the mouth of Keith’s lion feeling like the steps to a funeral march.

How would the Prince react when he realized he had the wrong Paladin?

Willing his bayard back to its original form, Lance stashed it in one of the cabinets before emerging from Red’s mouth, meeting Lotor’s eyes defiantly.

The prince’s face curled into a smirk, one pale eyebrow lifted in amusement. Lance took a few more steps forward, a tension he didn’t know he was carrying relaxing when Red’s barrier blazed into life.

“I will have to admit, I did not foresee this.” Lotor chuckled, “But I don’t think you understand what you’ve done.”

“I won’t let you have Keith.” Lance said proudly, lifting his chin as he stared Lotor down.

“You have prevented nothing, lovely Blue Paladin. You have delivered yourself as a prize and only added another reason for this ‘Keith’ to come to my side.”

“Prize?” Lance scoffed, “I don’t think so.”

Lotor was in Lance’s face before he could blink, clawed hand resting around Lance’s throat. “Prizes don’t think.”

Lance had a moment to pray that the others had gotten Keith to the castle before his world went black. 

~~~~

 

 Lotor watched dispassionately as the Blue Paladin fell at his feet, Haggar and one of her druids standing behind the downed warrior. “That was unnecessary.”              

"I think you underestimate the paladins. They managed to defeat your Father once before.” Haggar said haughtily, her eyes gleaming under her hood, “Give him to me. I can break him and use him against the others.”

Lotor looked at the human at his feet carefully, a clawed finger tapping at his chin almost absently. He was attractive, for the most part. Certainly a lot of raw potential. Perhaps with the right shaping, the Blue Paladin could become an ornament worthy of the Prince of the Galra Empire.

Decided, Lotor lifted the paladin by one slender arm, his limp body almost disgustingly light in his grip. “I think not, Haggar. I claim this one as a prize. I’ll do with him as I wish. I don’t think I’ll need your assistance in breaking my new toy. Although, a druid to assist in the reshaping won’t be turned away.”

“Toy? This is a paladin of Voltron.” Haggar hissed, “Cease with this foolishness and give him to me!”

“You couldn’t even hold on to the Champion before he became a paladin. Why should I relinquish my prize to you?” Lotor smirked, turning his back on the fuming witch with a flip of his long hair, “Crawl back to my father. I have no need for you.”

               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lovely art in this chapter was a commission drawn by the ever talented  suitboxers!   
> You can reblog the art from this chapter by clicking the link above! Please go show this wonderful artist some love!


	2. Voltron Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon returning to the Castle, the Paladins face the reality of what happened and Lotor parades his new prize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, this got a little away from me. Enjoy the next almost 10k worth of angst.  
> EDIT: 3/28: Fixed the hecking weird formatting. Seriously, what the hell.

Silence reigned among the lions as Lance’s com clicked off, each of them barely daring to breathe in the aftermath of the emotional bomb the Blue Paladin dropped. 

Keith stared at the darkened com, a brewing mixture of shock, rage, and grief giving way to a numbness that started at his chest and slowly trickled out amongst his limbs.

Lance…loved him?

A low whine broke the silence and it took a moment for Keith to realize that the broken, halting sound was coming from himself. His realization seemed to break the floodgates and ugly sobs wrenched their way from his numb chest, the part of himself that he recognized as Galra seeming to be utterly devastated at this new revelation and the loss that brought it about.

Two more voices joined his in grief and he looked up to see Pidge and Hunk crying as well, their own sobs muffled and faces wet.

Another view screen joined that of the Yellow and Green Paladins, making Keith look up to meet Shiro’s shocked eyes. “Keith…”

 Keith shook his head bitterly, pulling his knees into his chest and curling into himself, a hesitant purr emanating from Blue’s cockpit as she tried to comfort him in the only way she knew how.

 “How could he do this, Shiro?”

The Black Paladin only looked at him sadly, a strange expression on his face. “People do the craziest things when they think the people they love are in trouble.”

Shiro’s words only wound Keith tighter and he swayed violently when another wave of dizziness rocked him. The panicked voices of the other Paladins echoed around his ears as if they were coming underwater and he was finding it difficult to keep his eyes open.

Before darkness claimed him, Keith relived Lance’s words.

~~~~

 Panic rushed through Shiro when Keith suddenly slumped over, distress from Black compounding his own worry for the event that had befallen Lance and Keith.

The remaining Lions followed Blue through the atmosphere, guilt eating at Shiro as he periodically glanced to Keith’s silent screen. The sobs that had pulled themselves from Keith had sounded so broken and defeated, a phenomenon that Shiro never wanted to experience again. In all the years he had known him, Shiro had never seen Keith so vulnerable.

If only they had been faster or had kept a better eye on the surprisingly mobile flagship, they could all be returning to the Castle, laughs and banter replacing the quiet sniffles and tense silence that stretched between them now.

“Shiro.” Pidge called quietly, her voice thick with emotion, “Do not blame yourself right now.”

“What else can I do?” Shiro replied, the flatness of his voice concerning, even to himself, “After being away from you for so long, the very first mission I lead ends in this. I’m supposed to look out for all of you!”

“This isn’t going to help us right now, Shiro. This isn’t going to help them.” Pidge sniffed, eyes piercing through the view screen, “We need…We need to be calm about this.”

Hunk sobbed again, a burst of sound through the com startling Shiro. “Maybe there is a way for us to track that ship. It’s got to have a unique signature with how different it is.”

Shiro took a deep breath, willing himself to center his emotions. The team needed him to be strong. Now was not the time to dwell on his guilt.

There would be plenty of time for that later.

The Lions of Voltron broke through the atmosphere with ease, their missing fifth keenly felt as they returned to the hangar within the Castle. The moment the Black Lion was settled in her hangar, Shiro ran to Blue, waiting patiently as the Lion opened her mouth, hesitance in her actions. Shiro jumped in just as the bottom jaw hit the floor, picking his way to the cockpit where Keith slumped limply.

With shaking hands, Shiro slid his arms under Keith’s knees and around his shoulders, pulling him tight to his chest and making his way out of the Lion and into the Castle itself. Allura met him by the hangar doors, her face stricken and hands wringing in front of her.

“We lost contact not long after you broke through the atmosphere. What happened?” Allura said desperately, falling into step beside Shiro as they made their way toward the med bay.

“We were set up. As soon as we got through the atmosphere, several battleships appeared. I think the Galra have been improving their cloaking technology. We didn’t sense them at all until they were right on top of us. We managed to form Voltron but the storm made it a bit complicated. Keith’s lion was struck by lightning. After we took down the battleships, a large flagship showed up. There was a Commander on it.” Shiro summarized, talking on autopilot as he focused on getting Keith to the med bay as quickly as he could, “A commander by the name of Prince Lotor.”

Allura’s gasp pulled him from his single minded focus and Shiro recoiled at the sheer amount of rage on the Princess’s face. “Are you familiar with him, Princess?”

“More than I would prefer to be. Yet another blast from the past, I’m afraid. Lotor is Zarkon’s son, a half-Galra, half-Altean child. He was uncommonly cruel, cunning, and malicious even in the years before Zarkon’s betrayal.” Allura said tightly, “I had hoped that he would not share in his father’s longevity, but it appears that I was wrong.”

“He has Lance.”

Allura’s shoulders set, her expression creasing into fiery determination and Shiro felt his heart flutter. “Not for long.”

A dual set of footsteps behind them alerted Shiro to Pidge and Hunk’s approach, the two technologically inclined paladins approaching with intent expressions. “We had a few ideas that might work. Lotor’s ship is very different from the other ships we’ve seen before. We might be able to track its signature.” Pidge offered, Hunk nodding along with her, both their eyes red from tears.

“We should be able to do something like that.” Allura agreed, “However, if Lotor is anything like how I remember, we shall soon hear from him. He is a braggart and too proud of himself to understand any amount of caution. He’ll want to parade Lance in front of us as soon as possible. He had a habit of taking prizes. I have no doubt that’s what he has taken Lance for.”

“Prizes?” Hunk mumbled, face stricken.

“The Galra have always had a more militant culture than other civilizations. Before they were united under a single governing body, they had several warring tribes. It was custom amongst them to take defeated warriors and force them to become servants. They were called prizes. Lotor was known for taking part in this custom, even though it had fallen out of favor when Zarkon was the Black Paladin.” Allura recounted, nodded at Coran as the group made their way into the med bay.

“Do you think they’ll give him to Zarkon?” Hunk asked, the flinch from Pidge making it clear that it was a topic that they had been previously discussing.

“Lotor and Zarkon have never been particularly friendly.” Coran added, Allura looking over Keith with a concerned eye, “It’s unlikely that he would give Lance up. A small mercy in this case.”

“What about the druids?” Shiro whispered, subconsciously holding the wrist of his metal hand, a barely noticeable tremor to the movement.

“I don’t know.”

A shuddering gasp escaped Keith as Allura pressed her fingers gently to his forehead and Shiro immediately stepped to his side. “Why aren’t we putting him in a pod yet?”

“You said that Keith was electrocuted. I need to make sure there hasn’t been any damage to his sight or hearing. Placing him in a pod with that kind of damage would only harm him in the long run. Electrocution is a very tricky business as it interferes with the natural electrical processes of the body.” Allura explained, snapping her fingers next to Keith’s ear and nodding as if satisfied, “I’m actually surprised he’s in as good shape as he is. He probably has his Galra genetics to thank for that. Without them, I’m not sure what kind of condition he would be in.”

“What does his genetic structure have to do with electrocution?” Pidge asked curiously, stepping up beside Shiro.

“The Galra are notoriously more resilient when it comes to certain kinds of trauma.” Coran interjected, finger raised as he launched into lecture mode, “Why in fact, before the war, Galra were known for their great survival skills. Any expedition into unexplored space always employed at least one Galra scout.”

 “As interesting as that is, is Keith going to be alright?” Shiro interrupted, conscious of Pidge’s incredulous look, “Lance gave himself up so we could get Keith back here.”

“I’m not seeing anything that should keep him from being put into the pod. Get him into the med suit and we’ll get him in. Altogether, he was very lucky. If he had hit his head any harder, he could have been knocked into a coma.”

Shiro’s stomach dropped at Allura’s parting words, the other two paladins following her out of the med bay as Coran helped to detach Keith’s armor. The white pieces came off with little struggle and Shiro managed to shimmy Keith into the beige med suit with only slight difficulty. His breath caught at the white feathery patterns that snaked their way up Keith’s forearms and the blackened tips of his fingers. Coran caught his gaze and gave an impressed whistle.

“Caught a bugger of a strike, didn’t he? Those marks are permanent I’m afraid. Anything else, the pod should take care of, I reckon.” Coran said jovially, putting an almost paternal hand on Shiro’s shoulder, “Everything is going to turn out okay. Keith is getting his help and Lance is a tough boy. I have every confidence in him.”

“I just feel like I could have done more. Like I should have done more.” Shiro whispered, staring down at Keith’s pained form, “I was gone for so long and they’ve grown so much while I wasn’t here to help them.”

“You can’t blame yourself. You didn’t intend to leave them and you came back.” Coran consoled, “Sadly, we can’t predict everything that happens in war. However, you’re all still alive and that means there’s still hope. We just have to keep moving forward.”

“Thanks, Coran.” Shiro said softly, gently moving Keith into his arms once more.

“Anytime, Shiro. I’m here for all of you when you need me.”

The two of them made their way out of the infirmary part of the med bay, the pod room lighting up as they entered. With the press of a button, one of the pods emerged and Shiro laid Keith against the padded back, stepping out of the pod and letting the glass close over Keith’s face.

Lights spanned the breadth of the pod and Coran peered at the display in front of him with a considering hum. “Looks like the Princess was right. Keith’s genetics certainly made all the difference here. He’ll be laid up for a few days while the pod takes care of the damage to his system, both from the shock and the concussion but he’ll be out of danger fairly quickly.”

Shiro felt the tension leave his shoulders in a rush and he nodded at the older Altean man. Coran smiled at him knowingly, gesturing to the door with a tilt of his head. “Go on and join the others on the bridge. I’m sure Allura wants to talk to all of you."

Buoyed by the news of Keith’s imminent recovery, Shiro made his way to the bridge, the voices of Allura and Pidge echoing down the hall. He turned the corner into the room to see the two of them leaning over Pidge’s station, lines of code in English and Altean flashing across the screen fast enough to make Shiro see double.

Hunk sidled up to him immediately, worry evident in how his hands twisted together. “Well?”

“Coran said that Keith will be out of danger fast but it’ll take a few days in the pod to fix everything. He was lucky.”

Hunk nodded in relief. “Lance will be happy when we get him back.”

“I’m sure he will be.” Shiro agreed, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Allura and Pidge fiercely debate something on their screen, “Is everything okay with them?”

“They can’t decide how we’re going to track Lotor.” Hunk shrugged, “Pidge thinks we can track the ship’s signature but Allura isn’t sure if that will be specific enough.”

A shrill beep interrupted the two girls at the console and everyone looked up at the smug face that greeted them on the screen. “My, my. So many surprises in one day. I never expected to see you again, Allura.”

Allura stood from where she had leaned over Pidge’s station, an expression of disgust and anger twisting her normally beautiful features. Shiro suppressed a shiver at the pure fire in her cyan and magenta eyes, eye scales seeming to flash as she stalked to the center of the bridge, planting herself firmly in front of the screen showing Lotor. “And I never expected to be subjected to your visage once more, Lotor. So many dashed dreams.”

“How very cruel you are, princess.” Lotor purred, propping his head on one clawed hand, an indulgent smile on his face, “But for someone of your advanced age, it only makes sense for you to be so cranky. Those ten thousand years haven’t been quite so kind to you have they?”

Allura scoffed, a sneer twisting her mouth. “Your eyes must have started to fail you, Lotor. Not that I’m surprised. You have many years on me, after all. It’s a wonder you have any hair left. Won’t be too much longer now.” Allura said airily, flipping her thick tresses over one shoulder, “All pleasantries aside, I believe you have something that doesn’t belong to you.”

“Always right to business. You’re ever so boring.” Lotor pouted, lifting his head from his fist and gesturing off camera, “But you are right. No need to worry. Your paladin is in excellent hands.”

“Give him back.” Pidge hissed, appearing at Allura’s side in a flurry of suppressed rage, “He’s not some toy for you to play with.”

Lotor leaned forward in his chair, silvery hair rippling with his movement. “You humans are so entertaining. I really should collect more. Your blue paladin was very much like you. Unaccepting of his new role as my prize. It’s refreshing really.”

“I’ll show you refreshing, you-“ Pidge started, her words cut off by Allura’s gesture.

“We are going to retrieve him,” Allura vowed, eyebrows furrowed in anger and determination.

“You’re welcome to try.” Lotor taunted, movement at the edge of the screen drawing his attention.

He nodded at whomever stood beyond the screen, two heavily armored guards dragging a limp Lance between them. His armor had been discarded, leaving him only in his black flight suit. His head lolled as the guards deposited him at Lotor’s feet, propping his back against the black chair. Lotor’s hand dropped onto Lance’s hair, petting at him almost lazily. Lotor’s golden eyes blazed as he stared at the screen, daring them to make a sound.

“It really is fortunate that he has such lovely aesthetic potential. With a bit of shaping, I wouldn’t mind showing him off. Truly a prize to be envied. Beautiful and a Paladin of the legendary Voltron, a warrior who once aided in defeating my father. I am honored to even consider such an ornament.” Lotor smirked, pulling at the curls atop Lance’s head, “Had I failed to see such potential in him, I would have given him over to Haggar as she requested.”

Shiro flinched at the mention of the witch, his reaction fully noticed by the prince before them. He chuckled darkly, exerting just the slightest pressure with his claws on Lance’s hairline, a thin trickle of crimson making its way down his forehead. “You really should commend me on my mercy.”

“Mercy?” Allura hissed, the tone of her voice making every one of the paladins stiffen, “What do you understand of mercy? You speak of shaping one of my paladins to be an ornament. Of how you might have given him over to the witch of your Father? Do not speak to me of mercy, Lotor. When it comes to you, I have no recollection of the word. When we retrieve Lance, you will see just how much mercy I have for you.”

Shiro’s blood ran cold at the terrifying tone of the princess and even Lotor looked unsettled for a moment before his smirk curled his lips further. “These humans have been a wonderful influence on you. So much anger.” The prince shivered dramatically, “I love it. Of course, as I said before, you are welcome to try to retrieve your paladin. Perhaps I can add to my collection when you fail. Do be sure to bring the Red Paladin along. He and I have so much to discuss. Maybe even more than I had initially thought.”

Lance’s eyes slitted open during this exchange and he stared through the screen quietly, hazy blue eyes just barely taking in the situation before they widened in realization. They flicked from side to side before very purposefully meeting Shiro’s eyes. A sound pulled itself involuntarily from his throat when Lotor yanked on his hair once again, the Prince looking almost pleased at the reaction. “Oh my. Awake already.” Lotor tutted, flexing his hand in Lance’s hair, “Go on, little Blue. Give them a hint. Not too much though. I’d hate to ruin the game before it begins.”

Lance flinched again as Lotor pulled backward on his hair, baring the column of his throat to the camera. “ _Estamos en un barco diferente_.” Lance hissed, the words pulling themselves out through his teeth.

Shiro felt his heart sink to his feet at the rage that blazed over Lotor’s face at Lance’s words. “What did you just say to them?” He demanded, pulling harder and making Lance’s back bow under the pressure.

“I told them that your hair smells like candy and not to be afraid of you.” Lance sneered, his snark only serving to enrage Lotor further.

Pidge gasped as Lotor slammed Lance into the ground at his feet, his bound arms preventing him from resisting the hold that the prince had on him. There was a sickening thud and Lotor pulled a dazed Lance back, the wound at his hairline much bigger and pushing crimson all down the left side of his face. “I can see that you are going to need to learn some respect.” Lotor snarled, pulling his eyes from Lance to glare through the screen at the others, “Enjoy your hint.”

The screen clicked off abruptly, leaving the bridge quiet and tense, a sense of anxiety left in the wake of Lance’s words. “I don’t know what he said.” Allura whispered, a note of desperation in her voice, “The Castle didn’t recognize the language. I didn’t even know that Lance had another language.”

“Lance is from Cuba. English isn’t his first language.” Hunk relayed just as quietly, almost unwilling to break the silence of the bridge, “I don’t know enough Spanish to know what he said but whatever it was surely would have broken Lotor’s rule about too much information. I think he knew that what he said wouldn’t get translated by the Galra’s tech. He must have been hoping at least one of us would be able to figure it out.”

“Do any of us know Spanish?” Shiro asked, voice rough as he tried to speak around the lump in his throat.

Watching Lance defy Lotor to give them a better hint had struck a chord deep inside his chest and he fought back flashes of memory from his lost year with the Galra, a sense of detachment filtering in as he suppressed the scenes from the gladiator fights.

It was only when Hunk put a hesitant hand on his shoulder that he was pulled from the swirling vortex of his thoughts, breath short as he was brought back from the edge of a panic attack. “To answer your question, Shiro, I don’t think any of us know enough Spanish to figure out what Lance said. What could you make out, Hunk?” Pidge breathed, a wild edge to her words, “Maybe if you could give me an idea of what you know, I could build a translator? But I don’t know if we have the time or the resources. We would be working off what you know and you already said that you don’t know very much Spanish, we could completely mistranslate whatever Lance said and get his hint wrong or put him in even more danger. Why couldn’t he have just said it in English?”

Allura laid a gentle hand on Pidge’s shoulder, the younger girl looking up at her helpless as she plunged her fingers into her hair. “I just don’t understand.” Pidge sniffed, glancing to Hunk.

“Lotor was listening.” Hunk reasoned, “Maybe he thought he’d have a better chance if he said it in a language that Lotor wouldn’t understand. Maybe he hoped the Castle would be able to translate it.”

“All these theoretical possibilities aren’t helping us.” Allura said at last, her voice ringing through the bridge with a note of finality, “Hunk can work on translating what Lance said while Pidge and I get started on trying to track Lotor’s ship.”

“I thought you said it wouldn’t be specific enough.” Pidge protested, “I don’t want us to be wrong and have Lance stay in that creep’s hands any longer than he has to. Lance is too snarky for his own good and Lotor seems to have a short fuse…”

“Please don’t follow that line of thought.” Hunk pleaded, looking close to tears once more, “I don’t want to think about what he’s doing to my best friend right now. It’s bad enough that he’s not here and I don’t know if I can even translate the hint that he took a beating to give us. Just…please.”

“Hunk is right.” Shiro interjected, finally feeling far enough away from a panic attack to contribute to the conversation, “I had a little bit of Spanish back in high school so maybe I can help Hunk figure it out. Princess, is there any way to replay what Lance said?”

“We automatically record all transmissions the Castle receives. They are stored within the data core of the Castle itself. Since it was technically an enemy transmission, we may have to coax the data out but it should be feasible. Coran should be able to get it out of the data core.”

“Even if it’s a bit of a long shot, if Coran can get us the recording, it would help us a lot in figuring out what Lance said.” Shiro said, determination halting the last remnants of his panic attack in their quest to wreak havoc on his fragile psyche.

“Do what you must.” Allura urged, her eyes carefully searching his face, a sadness filling them as she found something there, “But don’t destroy yourself, Shiro. We need you.”

~~~~

Allura watched carefully as Shiro processed her words, his haunted eyes still looking at her regretfully, seeming as if the troubles of the world plagued him.

Their moment broke off with a sharpness that Allura felt deep in her chest, a clipped nod the only response Shiro gave before he turned away from her. Her eyes tracked his departure, a brief gesture to Hunk sending the Yellow Paladin hurrying after his leader.

Forcing herself to look away from the entrance to the bridge, Allura turned back to Pidge, the smallest Paladin watching the princess with an expression better suited to observing mischievous data. Their eyes met for a moment before a brief flash of realization lit Pidge’s hazel eyes.

The Green Paladin gave a distinctive quirk of her eyebrows before returning to her station, the slight tremor to her hands the only indication of her earlier rage. Allura followed her over to the screen, scanning the lines of code with a critical eye. “How quickly do you believe you can pick up the signature of Lotor’s ship?” Allura asked, voice cutting through the silence that had fallen like a knife.

“As long as Lotor’s ship doesn’t employ the same cloaking mechanisms as the battleships that ambushed us, I should be able to utilize the logs from Green and triangulate the signal within a day.” Pidge said quietly, hands flying over the keys of her station, “But I don’t know if we’ll be able to bust Lance out without Keith. Hunk and I aren’t the greatest at close quarters combat.”

“If Keith has not emerged from the pod by the time we find Lotor, I will accompany you to rescue Lance. I know that he would do the same for me.” Allura vowed, curling her fingers around the back of Pidge’s chair, “I refuse to let Lance suffer captivity at Lotor’s hands. All of you paladins are more important to me than you realize.”

A watery chuckle made the princess glance down, surprised to see Pidge wiping furiously at her eyes. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t cry anymore.” She sniffled, “But thank you, princess. I know that Lance has been a huge pain to you before and he can be pretty annoying to all of us but now that he isn’t here, I just want him back. I want him to bug me over my projects. I want to hear him arguing with Keith in the training room or singing to Hunk while they cook. I just want him back. I can’t lose any more of my family.”

Allura felt her heart crack as the young girl before her dissolved into badly stifled sobs. Pidge sat up abruptly when Allura rounded the chair, kneeling in front of the chair and pressing her hands to Pidge’s slender shoulders.

“I promise you, Pidge. I swear on my honor as Princess of Altea that we will retrieve Lance and we will make Lotor pay for taking one of ours.”

Pidge chuckled at that, letting her head fall heavily on Allura’s shoulder.” I believe you.” She whispered, words almost muffled in Allura’s collarbone, “You’ll let me at them too, right?”

“No force in the universe will be able to stop us. We have to protect our boys, yes? They would be quite lost without us.” Allura teased, running a hesitant hand through Pidge’s feathery hair.

Pidge laughed again and Allura reveled in the bond that she had finally managed to cultivate with the youngest paladin. Pidge wasn’t the little sister figure Allura had imagined upon Pidge’s confession of her gender but she had become a stalwart ally and an occasional partner in mischief. There were none of the childhood female friendship tropes Allura remembered, no sleepovers or the braiding of hair, instead she and Pidge supported each other as best they could in the midst of the war against the Galra.

They were particularly united in their goal of protecting the reckless men they considered family.

“Thanks, Allura.” Pidge coughed at last, pulling back to meet Allura’s eyes with a determined stare, “I will find Lotor.”

“I know you will.” Allura smiled, easing to her feet and dusting off the front of her dress, “I will leave you to it. It's high time I paid Keith a visit.”

Pidge nodded, turning back to her screen with a single minded focus that both impressed and frightened Allura. She watched the Green Paladin works for a moment longer before she turned away, collecting the mice from Lance’s empty chair, and padding down the quiet halls of the Castle of Lions.

Her small friends scampered up the sleeves of her dress, coming to cling to her shoulders as she moved with purpose. They broadcasted their sadness and confusion, not altogether sure what had happened but aware that one of their humans was nowhere to be found. Allura fondly petted their tiny heads, explaining the situation telepathically.

By the time they reached the medical bay, the mice were in a fury, her earlier anger only amping up their own. They hugged her shoulder in solidarity before disappearing into the castle’s vents, intent on helping where ever their tiny paws were welcome.

Taking a deep breath to center herself, Allura strode into the pod room, Coran turning to look at her as she approached.

“How is he?”

“Honestly,” Coran sighed, his face worried and drawn, “He was lucky. Had they waited even a few minutes more, he wouldn’t have woken up. The electrocution paired with the severe concussion he suffered were working against him. Had Lance not insisted they bring Keith back, we might have lost him.”

Allura blanched at Coran’s blunt words, her hands fidgeting with one another. “Will there be any permanent damage?”“Judging by the location of his concussion, his motor skills should be unaffected. However, he may have some issues in emotional control for a short while. Humans seem to have the centers for decisions making and emotion located in the frontal cortex,

“Judging by the location of his concussion, his motor skills should be unaffected. However, he may have some issues in emotional control for a short while. Humans seem to have the centers for decisions making and emotion located in the frontal cortex, unfortunately the same region of the brain that Keith rattled.” Coran explained, fingers tapping away at the panel in front of him, “But as I said to Shiro, he will be out of immediate danger very quickly.”

“That is a relief.” Allura breathed, looking at Keith’s peaceful face in the pod, “Is he stable enough to go unsupervised?”

“Not for a few more vargas, princess.” Coran said, rubbing at his chin in contemplation, “Did something happen?”

“We received a transmission from Lotor.” Allura replied tightly, “And a coded hint from Lance as to his location. Unfortunately, none of us possess the needed knowledge of the language to translate it.”

“The Castle didn’t translate it immediately?”

Allura shook her head regretfully, fingers twisting against one another, “I can’t help thinking that by not understanding we are putting Lance in greater danger. He risked a beating from Lotor to give us that message and we cannot do anything about it!”

By the end of her spiel, Allura’s hands were clenched into fists so tightly that her nails cut into her palms. “Maybe if I had made a greater effort to understand Earth and their culture, I might have a better idea of how to proceed.”

A hand on her shoulder pulled her from her self-deprecating spiral, a sad fatherly expression on Coran’s face. “You can’t blame yourself for this Allura. None of you should be blaming yourselves. Would we be better off if we’d learned about Earth’s culture? Likely. But that isn’t something we can change now. We have to work in the now to save Lance. Blaming ourselves for what happened isn’t going to help him. We have to trust in each other.”

Allura sighed, placing one of her hands over Coran’s. “You’re right. It's situations like these that make me wish Father was still here. I don’t know what to do.”

“At this point, I think we’ve done all we can.” Coran consoled, giving Allura’s shoulder a thoughtful squeeze, “And no one can really say they know what they would do in a situation like this one. Alfor was a great king, but he would likely have been just as lost as you are now.”

Bowing her head, Allura let out a bark of a laugh. “Perhaps. But it is easier to imagine him as having all the answers.”

“I know.”

~~~~

The next day and a half passed in a blur for Pidge as she devoted herself fully to the task in front of her. While she had made the concept of tracking Lotor’s flagship sound simple, in reality it was much harder than even she had realized.

The ship’s unique signature had completely left the sector that Lance had been captured in, floating through several different systems before she managed to track it down. Even with Green’s help, the signal was elusive, sometimes going dark and reappearing in random places.

In short, Pidge was frustrated. However, with every botched triangulation she grew closer to locking on, the tantalizing victory hanging just out of her reach.

The rest of the castle’s inhabitants mostly left her alone, only invading her workspace to leave food or give her an update on Lance’s hint. After Shiro had attempted to get her to sleep and gotten a raging fit, no one had really tried to get her to leave her workspace.

She was so close. So close to finding Lance. So close to getting Lance back.

In the day and a half he had been gone, the Castle had felt his absence like a physical weight. The halls were too quiet and everyone tended to stray from each other without Lance’s magnetic presence. It had startled Pidge at first, just how much Lance brought to them. He used his personality to bring them each something and now that he wasn’t here, it was only too obvious just how much they needed him.

Pidge missed his snark and the banter that ensued when he invaded her space, never letting her growling keep him out. She kept expecting to see him poke his head around the corner and call her some variation of a Pokemon. When the interruption didn’t come, she floundered, unaware of just how much of a break he had been giving her.

She glanced at the door once again, eyes lingering on the untouched plate of food that sat beside it before flicking her gaze back to the lines of code in front of her.

Just a little more.

Steeling herself, Pidge dove in once again, drawing on her link with Green to chase down the elusive signal of Lotor’s ship. She tracked it carefully, not wanting to ping their sensors like she had so often in the very beginning of her search. It was jarring, how much better Lotor’s technology was than Zarkon’s. It was presenting her with a challenge, a challenge that in any other situation she would have leapt upon with both hands.

Now it was a taunt and Lance dangled in the balance.

Shaking off her dark thoughts, her fingers tapped at the keys of her station, creeping up on Lotor’s signal. Every click closer made her heart throb in her chest, anticipation and anxiety warring with each other. The waiting was killing her, making her impatient and impetuous, a combination that reminded her a little too much of the other Paladin she was missing.

If Lance’s absence was like a physical weight, Keith’s was downright unsettling. It didn’t seem right not to see him going at the training gladiator at all hours of the day or quietly sitting in the corner while everyone talked and laughed. He was her cryptid buddy and she missed their drawn out discussions about the potential alien origins of some of their favorite cryptids.

Her fingers faltered on her keys and she bowed her head for a moment, swallowing thickly. When had she become so used to these people? How had they crept under armor so quickly? She coughed out a laugh and rubbed at her burning eyes. When she got all them back she had a face-punching quota she needed to meet.

Green prodded at her insistently, dragging her attention back to the signal she had been hunting. For the first time in her long search, the signal had stopped.

It didn’t move. It didn’t blink. It was steady and stationary. Finally a target she could lock onto. Her frustration over the last day and a half overpowered her caution and she latched onto the signal viciously, overpowering their walls with a flurry of code and hushed swearing.

Her screen lit up triumphantly and she jumped up from her chair, a victorious whoop leaving her lips and echoing through the bridge. “Take that you white-haired son of a bitch!!” She yelled, pointing at her screen before stumbling over to the intercom set up, relief making the adrenaline that had sustained her drain away.

“I found him.”

The next few minutes were a mess of bleary half consciousness as the rest of the crew rushed to the bridge, stepping carefully over her mess of uneaten food and crumpled juice pouches to where Pidge slumped against the wall.

“Pidge!” Hunk cried, running to her side, “Why did you push yourself so far?”

 “I knew I could do it.” Pidge slurred, tilting her head to the side to look at her sunny friend, “And I did! A few hours of missed sleep is nothing.”

“Pidge you’ve been awake for more than 48 hours. Not to mention you haven’t been eating. Or taking breaks!” Hunk protested hotly, angrier than Pidge had ever seen him, “Driving yourself to this point is not going to help Lance. What did you think you were going to do once you found him? You’re in no shape to help!”

Pidge roused herself as best she could, her own anger surging in response to Hunk’s. “I had to do what I could. I couldn’t leave him there while I took my sweet time trying to figure things out. This already took too long. We have no idea what Lotor has done to him!”

Hunk’s anger immediately evaporated and his chin trembled, the fight leaving him abruptly. Pidge felt cold as guilt crept in, overpowering her brief anger. “Hunk…”

“I was trying so hard. I wish I had paid more attention when Lance was offering to teach me Spanish back at the Garrison. Shiro and I have gotten nowhere but you, you found Lotor’s ship.” Hunk mumbled, “I’m just so worried Pidge. You look so sick but you found him. And I haven’t done anything.”

Pidge leaned forward, internally just as worried with how badly her limbs were shaking, and put one hand on Hunk’s shoulder. Before she could blink he had enfolded her in his embrace, face buried in her shoulder. She couldn’t help but relax into his hold.

It was kind of like being hugged by a cloud.

Pidge gave a half-coherent snort at the comparison, her head feeling fuzzy now that all of the neglect she had given her body was compounding. She peered over Hunk’s shoulder to see Shiro and Allura giving her strange looks, distress evident on their faces. “Katie, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.” Shiro said softly, the disappointment in his gaze making Pidge feel like she was an inch tall, “We’re all worried about Lance but you can’t help him if you don’t take care of yourself.”

“I commend your dedication, Pidge.” Allura said, her voice just as quiet as Shiro’s, “But I’m afraid that I cannot let you accompany us to recover Lance in your current state.”

Pidge sat up in Hunk’s grasp, outrage in her posture. “You promised to let me at them too, Allura!”

“Pidge, you aren’t even holding yourself up right now.” Hunk whispered, his voice by her ear startling her, “I can feel you shaking right now.”

Wilting, Pidge laid her head on Hunk’s shoulder, tears filling her eyes. “I just wanted to find him. I wanted to find him so bad.” She sniffled, hiding her tears in Hunk’s shirt.

The feel of a cool metal hand on the back of her head made her curl deeper into Hunk’s embrace, sobs locked in her chest. “I just wanted to keep one of my families together.”

Shiro’s hand stilled on her head and Hunk merely pulled her closer, an understanding in his gesture. “Pidge, while I feel you might be placed in unnecessary danger if you accompany us, do you think you could monitor us from the bridge?” Allura offered hesitantly, footsteps sounding as she padded closer, “Coran can pilot the ship if we need to move quickly but I know I would feel better having you keep an eye on us as well.”

Pidge nodded her assent into Hunk’s shoulder, leaning back to give Allura a grateful glance. “I’m sorry, Hunk.” Pidge said at last, looking to her friend, “For worrying you and for implying that you weren’t doing anything.”

“I know you didn’t mean it, Pidge.” Hunk said carefully, “But please just eat something, at least?”

Pidge nodded, letting Hunk help her to her feet and down the hall to the dining hall. While Hunk plied her with his far more edible food goo, Shiro and Allura rushed around in the background, consulting with Coran and planning their method of attack. After a meal and some time away from the stress of her signal hunt, Pidge felt a measure of clarity return to her mind. Her hands still shook and her body felt lethargic but that wouldn’t ease until she finally let herself sleep.

Once Hunk had been appeased, he helped her back to the bridge, leading her to her chair before taking his own seat, Allura standing sedately at the controls. “Are we prepared to make the jump?” Allura queried, looking around the bridge carefully.

“As ready as we’ll ever be.” Shiro replied, one hand unconsciously holding his metal prosthetic.

“The Castle is prepped and ready, Princess.” Coran announced, clicking away at his panel at the front of the bridge, “We should have a smooth trip.”

“Okay, opening wormhole.” Allura called, the Castle humming with her quintessence.

Pidge gripped her chair with white knuckles as the Castle flew through the wormhole, the by now familiar experience still leaving her a bit disoriented. A vast expanse of space awaited them on the other side of the wormhole, the dim gleam of a Galra flagship visible in the distance.

Breathing a sigh of relief that her hunt had not proved to be fruitless, Pidge relaxed into her chair, noticing the tense looks on the Altean’s faces with a confusion that she felt down to the marrow of her bones.

“What’s the matter?”

“There’s a bomb attached to that ship.” Allura breathed, not even daring to move a muscle from her position at the Castle’s helm.

Pidge sat bolt upright in her chair, peering through the front windows urgently. “I don’t see anything.”

“I’m with Pidge. I don’t see anything from this distance.” Hunk agreed, tilting his head to the side in an effort to see better.

“I haven’t seen anything like it since the first days of the war with Zarkon.” Coran swallowed, also seeming to be frozen in place, “If we get any closer, the bomb will engage and we will both be annihilated. In other words…”

“This was a trap.” Pidge said desperately, all the fight draining from her, “I led us right into a trap! I was so sure that I could find him. But he tricked me, tricked us!”

“Pidge, there was no way we could have expected this from Lotor!” Hunk growled, “You’re the best computer specialist I’ve ever seen and you’ve never once steered us wrong.”

“What can we do now?” Shiro asked, directing his gaze to Allura.

“I may be able to wormhole us away but I am unsure of the scope of proximity needed to trigger the bomb.” Allura said fearfully, hands trembling over the controls.

“We may not have a choice, princess.” Coran nodded, “Right now we’re sitting ducks.”

A click echoed through the bridge, a view screen opening alongside it. The denizens of the Castle of Lions looked to it intently, all with varying expressions and feelings of tension.

“Looks like you’re in quite a situation, dearest Allura.” Their white-haired scourge simpered, a different background in this video, but a similar situation.

Lotor lounged in his throne-like chair, gazing out at them with an exceptionally indulgent expression. “I see you tracked down my old flagship.” He grinned, “Clever and very hard to do with the amount of cloaking technology attached to it. Whoever accomplished such a feat and in such a short amount of time is a genius. However, I’m rather finicky when it comes to my ships. That one was not really matching my current aesthetic. Your attempt is admirable.”

A choked off gasp came from Hunk’s chair and Pidge cast him one miserable glance before Lotor was demanding their attention once more. “For such lovely entertainment, perhaps I can allow you another hint. Particularly since the first one seemed to do you so much good.”

The clanking of chain links against one another greeted his statement and Pidge inhaled sharply when Lotor pulled harshly on a length of metal attached to his chair. A muffled Spanish curse accompanied the action as Lance was jerked into the screen.

Gone was the black flight suit they had seen him in earlier. Instead, he was dressed in rich purple pants that hung low on his hips, the expanse of his slim chest left bare of clothing but was draped in thick ropes of silvery metal. A heavy silver collar ornately decorated with blue and purple gems was clasped tightly around his throat and it was to this collar that the length of metal was attached.

Lotor pulled harder and Lance arched up in an effort to keep the collar from choking him. In doing so, Pidge could see the way silver glittered all around his ears, the newly pierced area red and irritated. His hair was slicked back and his tightly closed eyes were outlined in a deep black. A pair of bracelet-like shackles encircled his wrists as he tried to grasp at the end of the chain attached to the collar. His eyes opened hesitantly, an almost unsure bleariness to them like he was a bit confused about his whereabouts.

“Do you like what I’ve done so far?” Lotor chuckled, running one clawed finger down the side of Lance’s jaw, “Already he looks more fitting to be an ornament to me. Perhaps I’ll make him a permanent fixture.”

“What’s wrong with him…” Hunk whispered, focusing in on Lance’s bleary eyes.

“I’m so glad you asked. You see, he was a bit…spirited, after our first conversation. So my lovely attendants and I did our best to help him relax. The reshaping process is much easier once my prizes relax into their new roles.” Lotor said conspiratorially, “A dash of Skaridia always does the trick.”

Allura’s hands flew to her mouth, undisguised horror in her expression. Lotor leaned forward, face lighting up at her reaction. “Oh my, princess. You know of it. How scandalous.”

“I know of what it does.” Allura hissed, “I also know that if you continue to give it to him, he’ll die!”

“Oh, I am well aware of its effects, dearest Allura. I have no intention of killing your precious Paladin. Not just yet anyway.” Lotor sniffed, “He’s been far more cooperative under its effects but you seem to have fallen into my trap at the perfect time. Today’s dose is wearing off.”

True to the Galra Prince’s word, the bleariness seemed to be clearing from Lance’s gaze. However, intense pain crossed his face and he curled into himself as best he could while Lotor still held the leash for his collar. “Of course, if he can function well enough to give you a hint remains to be seen.”

Lance turned his eyes to the camera, the pain on his face making Pidge clench her fists so tightly that her knuckles creaked. “I guess…the hint... didn’t work out… so well, huh?” Lance panted, a miserable attempt at his signature grin pulling at his face, “It was a bit of a long shot.”

Pidge threw a quick glance at Shiro and Hunk, the pain in their features almost too much for her to bear. She looked back to the screen only to see Lance staring intently at her, “Unfortunately, I can’t think of much else.”

“Now now, Blue. They’re getting a hint, not an apology.” Lotor smirked, tugging again at Lance’s collar, “If anything they should apologize to you. If they were truly your friends and comrades, how could they not understand how to decode the hint you gave them.”

Lance flicked a cerulean glare in Lotor’s direction, baring his teeth at the Galra holding his chain. “You don’t know anything about my friends.”

“So protective.” Lotor tutted, “Don’t forget that’s what got you in this mess to begin with. But tick tock, precious present. The next stage of your shaping is drawing closer. Either give your hint or keep silent. The result will remain the same.”

Lance spared a brief look of disgust and the briefest hint of fear for his captor before returning his gaze to Pidge. “ _Siga el rojo.”_

 Lotor’s amusement shuttered and he let Lance drop from his grip abruptly, the jingle of chains hitting the floor the only sound that either party could hear. “Disobeying again. Perhaps, a different kind of shaping will be required.”

Lotor’s eyes zeroed in on Allura with a sadistic glee so palpable that Pidge shuddered. “I have just the idea. Until next time, princess.”

~~~~

It was peaceful in the healing pod. Almost like dreaming but slightly more lucid. There was a distinct awareness of what was going on outside of the pod but no way of interacting. It was a strange in-between and most of the time Keith hated it.

But this time, this time he was somewhat grateful for it. It finally gave him the time to process everything that had happened between him and Lance just before Lance’s capture.

He had confessed to Lance. And got a kiss out of it.

A part of him was over the moon that his feelings were requited. Lance loved Keith just as much as Keith loved Lance. But the larger majority was terrified. Lance had literally given himself up just to make sure that Keith would be safe.

What kind of effect would this have on their team? They would go across the universe and back for each other but what if it put the team in jeopardy? Could he give Lance up if it meant choosing between Lance and Voltron?

As Keith drifted in the in-between world of the healing pod, he wasn’t so sure he could give up the Blue Paladin. After just one glimpse of how things could be between himself and Lance, Keith was hooked. He wanted nothing more than to have Lance back safe and sound. He wanted to spar with Lance again and bicker like they used to. But more than anything, Keith wanted to be able to hold Lance, to look into the fathomless depths of Lance’s eyes and bask in Lance’s love.

The faintest of purrs echoed in his mind, much calmer than the fiery voice that he was used to and Keith startled, the faint haze of the healing pod clearing. The purr faded out but an urgency remained, keeping Keith from relaxing back into the peaceful embrace of the healing pod. A frantic beeping pulled him even further from the pod’s gentle calm and he felt his eyelids fluttering.

The glass in front of him vanished and Keith stumbled forward, catching himself on his hands and knees with a grunt. He looked down and blanched at the white feathery markings that traced up his arms, his fingertips still the slightest bit singed. He looked up in confusion, eyebrows furrowing at the empty room that greeted him.

No one ever emerged from a healing pod without most of the team there to greet them.

So what happened? Either he was out much, much earlier than expected or there was an emergency. With a gargantuan effort, Keith pulled himself to his feet, limbs shaking as he stood, the effort leaving him winded.

Too early it was.

Determination fueling him, Keith crept out of the medical bay, hugging the wall for support as he made his way to the bridge. The bridge was abnormally silent as Keith rounded the corner and his violet eyes widened at the scene he witnessed on the screen.

Lotor held a heavily decorated Lance by a chain, watching the screen with an amused smirk. Keith witnessed Lance give Lotor a look of utter disgust, the emotion very nearly hiding the hint of fear in Lance’s eyes. Lance then turned those lovely eyes outward, pain written in his features. There was a barely there widening when his eyes met Keith’s but he instead turned his gaze to Pidge.

” _Siga el rojo.”_

_Follow Red._

Keith’s heart dropped in his chest when Lotor’s face became a mask of fury, the taunting words only serving to awake his ever present anger. When he let Lance fall, Keith could barely contain himself, white marked hands creaking with the strain.

The quiet click of the view screen deactivating echoed through the bridge ominously, the members of Team Voltron barely breathing in the aftermath. “He told us he was on a different ship.” Hunk breathed, hands grasping at the armrests of his chair, “He told us and we couldn’t figure it out.”

“I led us into a trap.” Pidge said quietly, her head in her hands and her knees drawn to her chest.

“He’s drugging Lance.” Allura murmured, her horror evident in her tone, “We have to hurry.”

“We needed to hurry before we found out what Lotor was doing.” Pidge snapped, her red rimmed eyes bloodshot and angry, “Nothing about this has gone according to plan.”

“Arguing about this isn’t helping.” Shiro growled, giving Pidge a stern look, “First, we need to get away from this ship and then we can work on decoding Lance’s hint.”

Keith looked at Shiro curiously before looking out the front of the ship to the steadily drifting form of Lotor’s flagship. His instincts screamed at him when he spotted a brightly pulsing red light on the front side of the flagship, a dull buzz at the back of his mind warning him away from the ship in front of him.

He blinked once and the light intensified, a flurry of activity on the bridge pulling his attention away from the flagship. “The proximity sensor has activated. We have to go now, princess!” Coran yelled, alarms beginning to blare throughout the ship.

Allura leapt into action and Keith watched in horror as Lotor’s flagship erupted into a conflagration so bright that it seared at his eyes. Was Lance still on that ship? There was no way…

The Castle rocked in the shockwave, barely reaching the wormhole before the front part of the explosion seared the back half.

The entire bridge shuddered in the aftermath, the Castle leaving the wormhole much earlier than anticipated, smoke curling around the outside of the grand window. “That was too close.” Allura gasped, her perfect posture slumping in relief.

“But now what do we do?” Pidge sighed, rubbing at her eyes, utter exhaustion and dejection in her voice.

“We do what Lance told us.” Keith spoke up at last, his voice surprisingly hoarse and crackly, “We need to follow Red.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, got away from me. This was probably the least fleshed out part of my outline so it kinda took on a mind of its own. I really enjoyed the parts with Allura and Pidge because I feel like they could have a super interesting sister-like relationship in canon.  
> But enough about that! Next update may be a little bit further out than this one because I make bad life choices and I have to write like two ten page papers this week, lol.  
> Next time, we switch to Lance's point of view and the interesting stuff going on with Lotor's ship.  
> All art in this chapter is a commission by the lovely, ever talented suitboxers! You can reblog the art in this chapter from their blog  Here! 


	3. Deep as the Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his capture, Lance meets Lotor's other prizes and his protectiveness truly comes back to bite him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So officially gonna have to split what was Chapter 3 into two separate chapters. The first part alone was pushing a good 14k. After this chapter, the timeline should be equal across the two groups so after this everything should be moving ahead. Also, the Langst is real. So very real.  
> Since I couldn't get the ideas out of my head, I went ahead and spat this chapter out so I can finally finish off my papers. XD

Lance came back to consciousness slowly, almost as if he was trying to swim through an ocean of pudding.

Something sharp was prodding at the skin of his hairline and pulling roughly at his hair. As lucidity returned, he gave a pained yelp when the tug on his hair turned harsh.

He opened his eyes slowly, his surroundings a blur of purple lights and heavily armored guards. With painstaking languidness, his vision cleared and he glanced side to side carefully, taking in the details of the ship around him.

One thing struck him immediately and he turned his gaze to the view screen ahead of him, meeting the furious eyes of his teammates, Shiro in particular.

This was not the same ship as before.

He yelped again as claws yanked on his hair, eyes flicking back to see Lotor holding him.

“Oh my. Awake already.” The Prince tutted, the flex of his hand in Lance’s hair making him flinch, “Go on, little Blue. Give them a hint. Not too much though. I’d hate to ruin the game before it begins.”

Mind racing, Lance struggled. What could he tell them? How could he say anything without Lotor cutting him off? He wasn’t even entirely sure where he was.

Unbidden, he remembered one of his few solo forays into the training room. He’d quickly gotten in over his head with the training gladiator in an effort to keep up with Keith’s monstrous scores, a strange mix of jealousy and disappointment in his contribution to the team driving him. In his panic, he’d forgotten how to end the session in English. He’d yelled the phrase in Spanish but the gladiator hadn’t even reacted. He’d been stuck running from the gladiator, swearing up a blue streak, until Keith had heard him.

It had been supremely embarrassing but Lance had been grateful for Keith’s help in the end.

However, the experience gave him an idea. If the Castle of Lions couldn’t translate Spanish, then neither could the Galra.

The hint would be safe.

And he trusted in his friends. They could figure it out, probably in no time at all. They were geniuses after, prodigies in their fields and certainly eons ahead of him.

He had to believe that they would figure it out.

He hadn’t given Hunk impromptu Spanish lessons at the Garrison for nothing.

Lotor pulled back on his hair again and Lance flinched, baring his neck to the camera in an effort to decrease the pressure on his skull.

” _Estamos en un barco diferente.”_ He hissed, gritting his teeth against the sharp pain at the back of his skull.

A shiver ran up Lance’s spine as Lotor’s hand twitched, a barely audible growl sounding from the Galra Prince behind him. Rage rolled off him in waves and Lance had a brief moment to ponder just how badly he’d fucked up.

“What did you say to them?” He demanded, pulling so hard that Lance could feel his back arch painfully, a fruitless effort to decrease the pressure, his bound hands jerking uselessly behind him.

A pained hiss left him and he sent a glare backwards, making sure to meet Lotor’s eyes with every bit of disdain and impertinence that he could muster. “I told them that your hair smells like candy and not to be afraid of you.” Lance snarked, the absolute fury crossing Lotor’s face simultaneously making Lance somewhat gleeful and terrified.

Before he could react, Lotor slammed him forward, the cold metal of the floor coming up to meet his face. His skull bounced off, bound hands flailing behind him for some sort of purchase. Pain blazed through him, a sharp burn at his hairline growing in intensity. Unresisting, he let Lotor pull him back, the sluggishly bleeding cut at his scalp now much bigger and cascading down the left side of his face. He squeezed his eye shut in an effort to keep blood out of it and swayed as the room blurred together. A throbbing built up behind his left eye and he lolled in Lotor’s hold, the trauma to his skull leaving him befuddled and disoriented.

“I can see that you are going to need to learn some respect.” Lotor snarled, the prick of claws on Lance’s scalp making him freeze, “Enjoy your hint.”

The view screen clicked off abruptly and Lotor released Lance letting him sway forward, once more meeting the cold metal floor of what he could now see was the bridge of the ship. He landed with a thump, pressing his pounding head against the metal in an effort to get some relief. Lotor prodded him roughly with one pointed boot, the very tip digging into Lance’s ribs like a knife.

It took little time for Lotor to flip him to his back, hands caught uncomfortably behind him as Lotor regarded him from the throne-like chair. “What am I to do with you, Blue Paladin?” He said in consideration, anger still blazing from his golden eyes.

“You could always let me go.” Lance spat, “Or give up all together. Preferably both. You could also just fuck off to some corner of the universe.”

Lotor scoffed, propping one fist on the arm of his chair and leaning his chin upon it. “Amusing.” Lotor chuckled, his mirth doing nothing to settle Lance’s nerves, “Once we can tame that tongue of yours, you will be quite the prize.”

“We’ve had this conversation. I’m no one’s prize.” Lance cursed, wiggling in an effort to put space between himself and Lotor.

“Not yet.” Lotor promised, “But the potential... It’s enthralling.”

Lotor rose to his feet in a fluid movement, stalking forward in a way that had Lance’s heart racing, his instincts warning him away from the predator in front of him. The Galra Prince barely stooped, sinking the claws of his hand into the front of Lance’s flight suit and hauling him to his feet. Lance struggled, his entire lanky body wiggling in Lotor’s grasp but to no avail.

He wasn’t going anywhere.

Lotor stared at him for a moment, his consideration bordering on calculating. “I have so many plans for you, little Blue. When I’m done, you’ll be the most beautiful prize I’ve ever captured. The Empire will have never seen your like.” Lotor crooned, “A paladin of Voltron: decorated, shaped, tamed and all at my command. It will be just the morale boost my men need. And if you behave, I may even keep you.”

Clawed fingertips skated along Lance’s jaw and he flinched away, amusement flickering in Lotor’s eyes. “No need for that. I have never forced my affections on another.” Lotor smirked, “When you learn your place, you’ll come to me on your own. Patience has always been a strength of mine after all.”

Lotor signaled to the guards of the room, the heavily armored soldiers snapping to attention at his command. “Take the Blue Paladin to the trophy room. Leave him in Maia’s care. She’ll know what to do.”               

Dismissal clear in his gaze, Lotor dropped Lance to the floor, turning on his heel to leave in a flourish of white hair and purple finery. “My friends will find me.” Lance bit out, pushing himself up from the floor to glare after Lotor, “And when they do, you’ll wish you’d never met us.”

Lotor paused a moment before glancing backwards, one elegant eyebrow raised, “I look forward to it. The question remains though. Will they make it before I break you?”

With that the Galra Prince resumed his dramatic exit, the doors of the bridge opening with a muted whoosh.

Fear settled into the pit of Lance’s stomach and he swallowed roughly when two of the guards pulled him to his feet, hands biting against his bound arms. They pulled him forward, uncaring of how his feet dragged at the floor, disorientation keeping him from regaining any kind of personal movement.

Just how badly did Lotor concuss him?

As the hallway spun again, Lance could only conclude that it had been badly. Now he and Keith were in the same boat, he thought with a self-deprecatory chuckle, the noise making his handlers glance at him in alarm.

“What’s so funny Paladin?”

Lance looked up in surprise, shit-eating grin crossing his face. “I just can’t bring myself to be scared of all of you.” He bluffed, smirking at the anger lighting up their faces, “You follow a guy who smells like the perfume counter in a department store.”

One of the guards grabbed him by the front of his flight suit, snarling in his face, the other letting go in the wake of the other’s anger. “Let him be, Korlaz. You know what will happen if he doesn’t make it to the trophy room in one piece.” The calmer guard sighed, resuming his grasp on Lance’s arm.

“I cannot wait until Lotor tires of you.” Korlaz snarled, “When that day comes, I’ll be waiting.”

He dropped Lance, letting the other guard stop his downward momentum with a harsh jerk on his shoulder and Lance flinched, locking the pained yelp behind his teeth.

He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of hearing him cry out.

From that point on, no matter what Lance said the guards wouldn’t react. So he began to talk to himself, rambling about the stupidity of their architecture and how he was really coming to detest the color purple, which was a shame because it was the favorite color of his little sister, Stella.

By the time they drew to a highly ornate door, it was clear that the two guards were happy to be rid of him. Two separate hand scanners locked the door before them and Lance awaited its opening with an anxiety that roiled his stomach into knots.

Just what was this trophy room?

As the ornate door split in two and whooshed open, Lance received his answer.

The guards shoved him inside, disorientation and general state of bondage making him trip and fall once again on his face. Unlike the rest of the ship, the floor was covered in plush rugs; dark, rich colors making the room seem deeper and cavernous.

The doors closed behind him with a click of finality, the light from the hallway disappearing and leaving the trophy room dim and somewhat oppressive. With a worm-like shuffle, he pulled himself up on his knees, a wave of vertigo and nausea hitting him immediately.

His eyes shut quickly, deep breaths in through his nose finally sufficing to abate the feelings. When finally he felt like he wasn’t going to throw up on command, he cracked his eyes open, vision adjusting to the dark room far more slowly than he’d like.

Tapestries covered the walls while great swaths of fabric descended from the ceiling, looped and arched in wonderfully complex patterns, an opulent display of power and wealth concentrated in the construction. The ceiling was cavernous and Lance peered upward, frowning a little at the crystal chandelier that pulsed from the top, the shards affixed to the metal structure looking uncomfortably similar to the corrupted Balmeran crystal Sendak had installed in the Castle of Lions back on Arus.

He followed the lines of fabric down to the floor of the room, the increase in finery making his eyes widen. The room was larger than he first expected and several doors branched off from the main circle, doorways concealed by more of the opulent fabric. The floor sloped downward from the doors, culminating in the center with a great indentation filled with pillows. In fact, this entire room seemed designed for comfort.

Rugs lined the floor, pillows were pressed into every corner of the room and the indentation in the center looked comfortable enough that Lance kind of wanted to crawl into it and never leave.

Said plans were dashed when a small purple head poked out of the center indention, golden eyes blazing in the dim light of the trophy room. Lance looked at the tiny purple head in confusion, unsure exactly of what he was seeing. The head cocked to the side, an expression of confusion crossing their face as well and it finally clicked.

Lance’s eyes widened as he realized what had greeted him in the trophy room.

Just ahead of him, adorable tufted ears and all, was the first Galra child Lance had ever seen.

Deeming Lance to be safe, the child climbed out of the mountain of pillows they had buried themselves in, picking their way forward in a way that made Lance suppress a giggle. It reminded him of the kittens his cat at home had given birth to. They had been all limbs, a hint of their future grace in their stilted walk but ultimately a mess of stumbling over themselves. While Lance mused, the child drew closer, looking at Lance with the most curious expression.

“What are you?”

Lance chuckled at the immediate question, turning his head down to look at the frankly tiny child. Even on his knees, the kid only came to the top of his sternum, inquisitive golden eyes looking at him so intently that he wasn’t sure if he could tell the kid no.

Galra or not, there was something about children that disarmed Lance.

“Well?” The child said imperiously, placing their little hands on their hips in an expression that could only be an imitation of someone in their family.

The thought sobered Lance for a moment and he looked up, searching the darkness for others. This kid couldn’t be alone, could they?

An impatient tapping brought Lance back to the adorable conundrum before him. “I’m Lance.” He replied, patiently waiting for the child to consider his words.

A frown scrunched at the child’s face, tiny fangs poking out over one lip before they looked at him closer. “You don’t look like a lance. Mama says that’s a weapon. You definitely don’t look like a weapon. You look like a noodle.”

Lance winced at the kid’s bluntness, a laugh working its way out of his throat despite himself. “My name is Lance.” He amended, “I’m a human.”

“Are all humans named after weapons?”

Lance barked out a laugh again, trying desperately to school his face back into something more appropriate for the situation. “No. None of my friends are named after weapons.”

“Friends? There are more people who look like you?” The kid said in surprise, “Do they all look like you?”

“What do you mean?” Lance said in confusion, not sure what the kid was getting at.

“Do humans have brown skin and hair? And that color that your eyes are? What is it?”

“Oh, uh, my eyes are blue.” Lance answered, understanding blooming, “Humans come in lots of different colors. My friends look very different from me.”

“I see.” The kid nodded, seemingly appeased.

They tapped a hand on his shoulder in childish approval, the gesture making Lance smile. The kid immediately gawked, their face suddenly millimeters away. “Your teeth are so weird!”

“That’s not very nice.” Lance frowned, “Most humans have teeth like me. The alien preoccupation with sharp teeth is what’s strange to us.”

The child bowed their head for a moment, a guilty expression crossing their face. “I’m sorry. Mama says I can be a bit rude.”

“It’s alright, little buddy.” Lance sighed, “Can you tell me where I am?”

“This is the trophy room.” The child responded, “It’s where our Prince keeps his prizes. There used to be a lot of people who stayed here but when Lord Zarkon got hurt, our Prince got very mad. Mama said that the others went away. Now it’s just me and Mama. And you now, Lance!”

Lance looked at the room with new eyes, a heavy weight settling in his chest when his eyes returned to the child in front of him. Lotor had literally taken a child and its mother as a prize, the only two prizes left after he “sent away” the others.

Looking back on his previous exchanges with Lotor, Lance had an idea what had happened.

It made his blood run cold.

“Lance, what’s wrong with your head?” The kid wondered, suddenly comfortable with getting deep into Lance’s personal space to poke at the stream of crimson down the side of his face, “There’s red all over it.”

“I’m bleeding.”

The child immediately leapt to attention, concern crossing their tiny expressive face. “Wait here! I’ll get Mama! She can help you.”

Scampering away in their jilted kitten way, the child disappeared behind one of the curtained doorways, their departure leaving the room much more sinister without their innocent presence. Lance curled into himself, the effort of holding himself up on his knees for so long exhausting.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting anger against Lotor build up in his chest. Who did he think he was? Keeping people like trophies? Because as Lance looked back at the room around him that was precisely what this had turned into. Instead of being a prisoner, Lance was a trophy.

It infuriated him.

He was _no_ trophy. He was a Paladin of Voltron, the leg of the mighty Defender of the Universe and the pilot of the Blue Lion. He was a damn fine marksman and the second he could get his hands on a blaster, he’d make sure that no one in this compound would forget it.

But as the seconds dragged into the minutes, doubts crept in. What if he couldn’t get away from Lotor? What if they didn’t get Keith to a pod in time? Would his sacrifice mean anything?

He curled deeper into himself, those thoughts crashing around his mind and making his chest squeeze uncomfortably.

He just wanted to go home.

A gentle hand on his shoulder pulled him from his downward spiral, the concerned face of the Galra child in front of him once more. “It’s okay, Lance. Mama will take care of you.”

A soft feminine sound of distress caught his attention and he looked up in time to see another Galra emerge from the curtained doorway. She froze when she caught his gaze, a flicker of fear on her face when she looked down at his flight suit. “You are a Paladin of Voltron. Lotor captured a Paladin of Voltron?”

“Well, funny story about that actually…” Lance sighed, his head heavy.

Lance watched closely as the Galra woman rushed forward, mentally cataloging the differences he noticed between her and the soldiers he had been fighting during his long sojourn in space. While Galra men seemed built for strength with their wide shoulders and large builds, Galra women seemed built for speed. The woman in front of him was small but even with his limited experience he could tell that it was deceptive. She may not have the same strength as a trained Galra soldier but when she kicked his ass, he wouldn’t even see it coming.

There weren’t the usual markers that he remembered from human sexual dimorphism but as she drew closer he could see that her body had the slightest curve to it from the hips, the dark purple fabric draped around her nearly the same color as her fur.

“I’ve never seen a female Galra before.” Lance noted lightly, vertigo returning.

“And I have never seen a human before.” The woman returned, kneeling beside her child at Lance’s side, “Galra women have much more stealth oriented roles in the Empire, Paladin. If you had encountered one, you would never know.”

“So you’re like ninjas.”

“I have no idea what that means, Paladin. I can only conclude that the head trauma you’ve suffered is scrambling your brains.”

Lance chuckled at her straightforward manner, seeing immediately where her kid picked up their bluntness. “It’s a human thing.” He explained, with a nonchalant wave of his hand, “And I probably have a concussion. Fragile human skulls and all that.”

“I can see that.” The woman clucked, the sounds reminding him painfully of his mother and the noise she would make when he had managed to injure himself once more, “Come with me. I have our medical supplies in another room. An unfortunate necessity with our current master, I’m afraid.”

Gentle hands pulled him to his feet, even more strength evident in her grip than Lance had previously estimated. She would definitely be able to make him regret everything he’d ever done. Probably with a look too. She certainly had the mom aura about her.

A quick slice of her claws freed his hands and he brought them out of their strained position gingerly, a groan of protest coming from his aching shoulders. “ _Dios mio,_ that hurts.” He hissed, trying to roll the tension out of his arms.

The woman looked at him curiously for a moment, her hands stilling his movement as she took a deep breath, a strange look crossing her face. “I smell another Galra on you. One not from this ship. Are there others beyond the ship who do not follow the Empire?”

“Judging by your phrasing, I’m guessing you’re not a Zarkon follower.” Lance wondered, “But yes there are others. We’ve worked with the Blades of Marmora before and one of the Paladins is half-Galra.”

“Not all Galra support Zarkon and even fewer support Lotor.” The woman nodded, “You have to remember that the first world Zarkon conquered was his own.”

A dim flicker of recognition sparked in Lance’s brain as he registered her comment but she was breathing in again, her eyes widening. “Oh. Well, that definitely answers that question.” She squeaked, almost embarrassed, “I get the feeling you won’t be with us for long.”

“What makes you say that?” Lance demanded, a mixture of hope and fear brewing in his chest.

“Your mate. I can smell him on you.”

“My what?”

“Your mate?” She answered, fingers twisting together as she pursed her lips, a look of indecision on her face, “The Galra Paladin you spoke of? His scent is all over you. Is it not that you are claimed?”

Lance’s face immediately flamed crimson, eyes widening. “Galra lady say what? Like Keith and I kinda had a moment and I may or may not have finally confessed my feelings before I pulled my daring sacrifice shtick but I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh dear.” The woman laughed, a certain amount of second hand embarrassment in her tone, “Uh, come with me. I’ll try to explain while I get you taken care of.”

Lance let her pull him along, his embarrassment warring with a satisfied feeling in his chest. A mate, huh? Part of him liked the sound of it. The permanence.

“So Galra culture is very war-like.” The woman began, her gentility in leading Lance a drastic change from his earlier treatment on this ship, “And our biology in general is likely to be very strange to you, at least in certain ways. I am guessing, that far, far down the line in our evolution, we recognized the danger we would pose to each other if we mated and reproduced like other species. For as long as Galra species have had a civilization, we have had the concept of mates. Each Galra will find only one and Galra mate for life. It’s a complex bond, weaving together both body and mind of the mated pair. It is only mated pairs who have the necessary biological requirements to conceive children.”

Lance listened intently, soaking in the information like a sponge. All the time he had spent at war with Galra Empire and he knew so little about them as a people. It simultaneously worried him and made him feel guilty. He could almost hear his mother’s words in the back of his mind, lecturing once more about judging others when you didn’t understand them.

“The courtship process between Galras is complicated and many of the old ways have been lost to Zarkon’s empire. What I can tell you, is that whatever moment you shared with your Galra Paladin has started the process.” The woman said seriously, pulling Lance to a chair in a brighter room, clinical supplies piled high around a desk, “The bond between mates is strong. I don’t know how being human will affect it but Galra have successfully formed mate bonds with different species throughout millennia. My mate was also not Galra. The longer he is away from you, the more frantic he will become. If the bond works on humans, you will also start to feel it.”

“What can I do?” Lance said desperately, “Lotor wants Keith, since Keith is also a half-breed. I can’t let him just barrel in here guns blazing.”

“I have some experience.” The woman said sadly, “I may be able to ease you through it. And believe me I am well aware of Lotor’s preoccupation with finding others like himself. My mate was a member of one of the many rebel groups. He took me and our child with him when Lotor attacked but we were discovered. My mate was slain and we were taken as trophies. As for your Keith, I fear that he won’t be able to stop himself.”

Lance looked to the woman in front of him with sympathy and he raised one hand to cover the hand she had placed on his shoulder. “I am sorry for your loss. After what you told me, I can’t even imagine what that would feel like.”

“I hope that you never have to, Paladin.”

Silence reigned between the two of them, a comfortable weight as the Galra woman tended his forehead with a gentle hand, her aura lulling him into a soft state. He made a soft noise of protest when she pressed lightly on his forehead and she shushed him, the sound pulling him back into complacency. “This is going to hurt, paladin.”

Her hands returned to his forehead, fingers covered in some kind of thick paste. She pressed firmly and Lance cried out, head almost jerking out of her grasp. She held on despite his desperate movement and Lance could feel the disorientation and vertigo of his concussion begin to fade away. When the woman pulled her hands away, Lance’s thoughts were clear and he looked up in wonder.

“It’s no Altean healing pod, but Galra medicine has come a long way.” She said with a smile, chuckling at his expression, “Besides, I get the distinct feeling that Lotor has sent you to me for a reason.”

Her smile faded and she pressed a hand to his shoulder. “I believe that your mate will come for you, young Paladin. But your life is going to be hell until your friends arrive.”

Lance looked up at her, allowing a slight break in his mask of confidence. “I know.”

She sighed heavily before helping him to his feet, her steps making no sound on the plush floors. They strode through the pillow-laden room quickly, the doors whooshing open to reveal the devil himself.

“I see you have had time to begin.” Lotor nodded, his presence making the woman shrink into herself, her previous aura all but extinguished by the simple fact that he stood before her, “You know what I expect, Maia.”

Maia nodded, carefully keeping her eyes on the floor. Lance stepped in front of her protectively, rage resurfacing in his chest. “Oh my, Blue. That protective streak of yours will be your downfall.”

“You’re a monster.” Lance hissed, slicing the air in front of him harshly, “People aren’t toys for you to play with.”

“I am growing tired of your mouth.” Lotor snarled, the noise making the woman behind Lance flinch, “Give me the vial. It seems that he hasn’t learned anything.”

“My teachers always did say that I was a pain.” Lance smirked, keeping himself firmly between Lotor and Maia.

A guard stepped forward, a solid black vial offered to Lotor reverently. Lotor took it with dainty grace, looking between the vial and the fire in Lance’s eyes. “Drink this.”

“Like hell.” Lance spat, “I don’t belong to you, Lotor.”

“Maia.”

The woman flinched and Lance felt his anger flare higher. “Leave her out of this.”

“Either he drinks it, or Kore does.” Lotor murmured, Maia’s breath halting in her chest.

“Please, my Prince, no. Kore is far too young for the Skaridia. Her body wouldn’t be able to handle it.” Maia pleaded, her hands pressing to her chest.

Lance went cold as one of the guards darted into the shadows of the room, emerging a few seconds later with the small Galra child clutched in one harsh hand. She looked at Lance in fear, golden eyes wide and Lance felt his heart break in half.

He couldn’t let anything happen to this little girl. This poor tiny thing who had so fearlessly approached him. This small Galra child who reminded him so much of his Stella that he couldn’t breathe for a moment.

“I’ll do it.” He said dully, “Just let her go.”

A pleased smile curled over Lotor’s face and he gestured to Lance imperiously. “Come on then, pet. I am a very busy man, after all.”

Lance stepped forward, heart in his throat, a soft noise of protest made by the child in the guard’s grasp. “Mama! Don’t let him do this!”

“It’s okay, little buddy.” Lance smiled, trying for his best big brother tone, “I’ll be alright. I promise.”

Lotor watched the exchange with triumphant glee, a hand snaking out to snag Lance by the arm as soon as he drew close enough. “I knew that you would prove entertaining.”

“Just give me the vial, Lotor.”

Lotor tsked, gripping Lance’s chin in his hand. “That’s no way to talk to your master, pet. You’re a smart one, Blue, you know what needs to happen.”

Pride and protectiveness warred with one another and Lance glared at Lotor with every ounce of rage that he could muster. “I’m going to kill you.”

“Wrong answer.” Lotor sang, one clawed finger held up.

The tiny Galra child, Kore, let out a yelp of pain and Lance startled, turning his head to see the guard holding her up by one thin arm. “Let’s try this again, shall we?”

“Please, my Prince.” Lance bit out, closing his eyes against Lotor’s grin, shame burning him from the inside out.

“Very good, Blue. We’ll make a proper prize of you yet.” Lotor praised, rough grip turning into the barest hint of a caress, a claw pressing into Lance’s bottom lip, “Open up.”

Obediently, Lance opened his mouth, the vial’s contents meeting his tongue quicker than he expected. Lotor pressed Lance’s chin up, shutting his mouth with a click, the motion making Lance’s eyes fly open. “I look forward to your new cooperation.”

Lotor stepped back, clearly satisfied with the events that transpired. He nodded to his guard and locked his eerie gaze on Maia. “The silver will suffice for him.”

Maia murmured her assent, enveloping Kore in her arms when the child was released. The room fell silent once more as Lotor left and Lance continued to stare at the door, the tingling on his tongue slowly making his body feel languid and sluggish.

“What was that?”

A choked sob answered him and he turned back to see Kore burying her head in Maia’s shoulder, a look of pity on Maia’s face. “It was a drug. It is known as Skaridia. It induces a dream-like state in the user, making them soft and suggestible. It is Lotor’s tool of choice for unruly trophies.” Maia whispered, her words carrying in the cavernous room, “Why would you do that?”

“I have a little sister back home.” Lance said with a gentle smile, fog spreading through his limbs, “She’s about the same age as Kore. I’d do anything to keep Stella safe. Kore reminds me of her.”

“You truly have no sense of self-preservation, do you Paladin?” Maia said softly, her voice cracking.

She stepped forward, pulling Lance into her arms tightly. “Thank you.” She breathed, Kore’s tiny body encased between them, “I can’t lose my kit.”

“What can I say? I’ve never been too great at taking care of myself but I can protect others just fine.” Lance smiled, swaying as the world started to feel more sluggish.

Maia looked at him in concern, her golden eyes widening in realization. “Come along, paladin. Quickly, before the drug completely kicks in.”

“It’s Lance.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“My name. It’s Lance.”

Confusion crossed Maia’s face and she exchanged a look with her child. “Is it common custom on your planet to name people after weapons?”

Lance laughed again, the action making him feel like his head was floating. “Kore asked me the same thing. But no. As far as I know, I’m the only person I’ve met who was named after a weapon.”

“I hope for your safety, you prove as sharp as your namesake, Lance.” Maia said solemnly, her seriousness making Lance giggle once more, the colors of the room beginning to blur together in a mess of fabric and tapestry scenes.

Maia looked at him once more before hurrying him across the sloped room, mostly carrying both him and Kore as his coordination quickly began to suffer from the drug’s effects. She pulled him into a room equipped with multiple high tech pods, the design similar to the pods from the Castle of Lions. “What are these?”

“Hygiene pods.” Maia said succinctly, placing Kore outside the door and pushing Lance into one of the stalls adjoining the furthest most pod, claws deftly catching the zipper on the back of the flight suit, “Quickly, change out of your suit and hop into the pod. I’ll leave a change of clothes for you on the bench.”

With that order, she stepped out of the room, closing the curtain behind her. Lance stared at his hands for a moment after she left, the fog in his mind convincing him that they had suddenly multiplied in size. He frowned at his hands before shaking himself, peeling the skin-tight flight suit from his body, only his shorts and pilot’s shirt remaining.

Fighting against jittery hands and an increasingly floaty head, Lance peeled the rest of his clothing off and stepped into the pod. As soon as he stepped in, the pod sealed and he had to fight back a moment of panic, the last time he had gotten trapped in a pod flashing through his drug addled mind. The moment passed quickly, lulled away by the cloud in his head.

Dimly, he registered the pod clicking on but the rest of the experience was blur of water and some fruity smelling soap. By the time he emerged from the pod, his flight suit was gone as well as his shirt and shorts. In their place lay a pair of deep purple pants, the color similar to the wrap that both Kore and Maia wore.

He looked for anything else but found nothing but the pants, face flushing as he pulled them on. “Freeballing it is.”

The pants hung low on his hips and he shivered in the coolness of the trophy room, his exposed chest breaking out in goosebumps. He stumbled out of the stall, awkward as a newborn foal, every step flipping the split material of the pants away from his legs, the fabric parting just enough to give periodic flashes of his outer thighs.

Outside the room, Maia waited, her expression falling when Lance emerged. “You’re so young.” She breathed, golden eyes seeming to shimmer.

“I turn twenty soon.” Lance said languidly, the words tripping over themselves on his tongue.

“So very, very young.” Maia repeated, “We have children fighting to defend the universe?”

“And succeeding!” Lance crowed, tripping over the flapping fabric of his pants to fall into Maia’s arms, unsure what to make of the light blazing in her eyes.

“What of your families?”

Lance’s expression shuttered in guilt and he hung his head, almost curling into Maia’s warmth. “They don’t know what we’re doing. I’m pretty sure they think we’re dead. We’ve been gone for a long time.”

Maia made a soft sound in the back of her throat, letting Lance sink into her arms, a soft hand petting at the back of his head. “Fate is cruel, Lance.”

Lance nodded along with her words, enjoying the warmth of her arms around him. Hesitantly, he looped his arms around her, the haziness of his mind conjuring the warm, spicy scent of his mother when he pressed his head against Maia’s shoulder.

“You smell like my mom.” He snuffled, eyes filling with unbidden tears, “I miss her so much.”

Maia made a strange noise at his ear, a weird combination of a coo and a sob, the sound not unsettling Lance as much as he thought it should have. Her arms banded tighter around him, holding him like he hadn’t been held since he first left for the Garrison.

Kore made a quiet questioning noise by their feet, her fluffy ears flattened against her hair, the waves almost concealing the ears from view. “Is Lance-friend gonna be okay, Mama?”

“Yes, Kore. He’s just a long way from his family.”

Kore made a chirpy attempt at a purr, pressing her head against the side of Lance’s leg, tiny clawed hands clenched tightly in the rich purple fabric. “I don’t want him to be sad. Please don’t be sad, Lance-friend.”

Lance chuckled wetly at Kore’s words, letting one of his hands rest lightly on top of her hair. “Thank you, Kore.”

“Come now, cub.” Maia coaxed, patting at the back of Lance’s head in a soothing way, “The sooner we get this over with, the better.

Lance peered up at her hazily, normally piercing blue eyes dulled with the effects of the Skaridia. He followed her obediently, letting Kore cling to his hand happily. Maia led them into another room off the sloped center chamber, keeping a careful eye on Lance’s shaky legs. Once inside, Lance couldn’t help but stare at the shelves of jewelry; silver, gold, and gems glittered in the dim light of the room, the light making Lance feel dizzy.

A part of him railed against this room and all that it stood for, particularly when he realized the purpose of Maia leading him into the room.

He was to look the part of a prize.

While his mind railed, his body was pliant and obedient, easily caving to Maia’s soft instructions. Fog rolled through his limbs, making them feel heavy while his head alternated between periods of great clarity and a dream-like fuzziness that nearly convinced him that he had returned home to Varadero Beach.

He could feel Maia’s gentle hands in his hair, fingers sticky with gel as she slicked back his fringe and tamed his curls. Kore obediently toddled back and forth as her mother instructed, various instruments clutched in her tiny hands.

His eyes threatened to water when Maia began to outline them with the black pencil, her clawed hands infinitely careful as she finished her work with precision.

Lance felt words come to the tip of his tongue, a comment of how jealous his older sister would be if she could see him but when he opened his mouth, the words melted away and he frowned, perplexed.

“Don’t force it, Lance.” Maia cautioned, “It will make the side effects worse when it wears off.”

A questioning noise left his throat and Maia gave him an indulgent smile as her fingertips felt around the curve of his ear. “Skaridia is a poison, cub.” She sighed, a wicked needle clutched between two of her claws, “Once the high wears off, the systems of your body begin to shut down. The antidote exists but repeated doses need higher and higher concentrations of antidote to contradict the poison’s effects. If you take it for too long or get a higher hit, the poison will kill you.”

Internally, Lance panicked. This was worse than he could have imagined. Lotor was actively giving him a substance that would kill him.

For the first time since his capture, Lance truly feared for his life.

There was so much that he still wanted to do. He wanted to see his friends again. He wanted to creep up and steal cookies while Hunk baked, he wanted to annoy Pidge into taking her breaks and tuck her in when she managed to fall asleep in some random part of the castle. He wanted to talk with Shiro, to really come to understand the man he had idolized. He wanted to flirt badly with Allura, if only to see the irritation in her eyes overpower her sadness.

He wanted to exchange stories of home with Coran again. Hell, he wanted to go home period.

He wanted to see Varadero Beach, to surf the waves and feel the sun on his skin. He wanted to hug his mother and father, bicker with his siblings and see his precious little sister, Stella.

But more than anything, Lance wanted Keith.

Lance wanted to curl himself around Keith and ignore the world for a while, content himself with adoring the love of his life and show Keith the attention and affection he had been denied for so much of his life. He wanted to spar, to bicker, and to spend his days getting to know Keith as well as he knew himself.

He wanted to lose himself in Keith and spend the rest of his life with that beautiful disaster.

Lance opened his eyes to see Maia looking at him wretchedly, the wicked needle gone but new weights pulling at his ears.

“It will not get easier.” She promised, regret in every line of her face, “But I will do what I can for you, little lion.”

A single tear slipped down Lance’s cheek at her words, the fog rolling through once more.

He could feel cold ropes of jewelry crisscross his skin, the lines feeling like the cold points of a knife. The needle made a reappearance and a new weight dangled from his bellybutton, the movement of it tickling the lower part of his stomach.

Delicate links draped themselves over his hips, a system of clasps so tiny that only Kore could undo them somehow holding the whole thing together.

He caught his own eye in his reflection and startled when he could not recognize himself in what he saw. His darkly outlined eyes were hazy and exotic, Maia’s expert hand drawing attention to them. Silver glittered all around his ears and his breath caught in his throat, an old lecture from his mother ringing in his mind.

His mother was going to kill him for getting his ears pierced.

A hollow laugh pulled itself from his throat and Maia paused in her work briefly before shaking her head regretfully. A sharp rap at the door frame caught their attention and Lance turned to see a guard standing uncomfortably in the shade of the door, a box clasped in his hands.

“What are you doing in here?” Maia hissed, her voice dark and so dangerously pitched that Lance could feel alarm pull at him even in the mist of the drug.

“My apologies, Lady Maia.” The guard said quietly, carefully not meeting her eyes, “Our Prince instructed me to bring these to you. They are for the Paladin.”

“Is my work no longer satisfying to him?”

“It’s not that.” The guard rushed, voice coming out quickly, “He seems concerned about safety in the case of the Paladin. He’s dangerous.”

A snarl pulled itself from Maia’s chest and the guard flinched, holding the box out in front of him. “Does he look dangerous to you? He’s a child.”

“He’s a Paladin of Voltron.” The guard argued, “Before our Prince captured him, he took out over 150 of our droids on his own. All with perfect shots. Do not let yourself be fooled. He’s an enemy to our people.”

Maia scoffed and Lance looked at her in wonder, his respect for her growing as he witnessed how she cowed the guards of the compound. “Do not presume to know who I support. Leave the box and get out.”

The guard’s chest puffed up in offense, his hand moving toward his blaster almost as if on instinct. Maia watched him with sharp golden eyes, standing in a slow, fluid motion, her hands curved so that her claws were on full display. “I may be a trophy now, Ikarez, but that doesn’t mean that I cannot put you in your place.” Maia said proudly, “Lotor will not protect you from me.”

Deflating suddenly, the guard did as she asked, hauling ass out the door. Kore sniffed at his departure, flipping her little head of hair so sassily that Lance barked out a surprised laugh. Maia smiled at his reaction, a soft hand patting the top of his head. “Like I said. I will do what I can for you, little lion. I cannot defy our master but the guards I can do something about.”

Toddling over as quickly as she could, Kore brought the box to her mother, curiously worming her way under one arm so that she could see what it held. Maia opened the box and her smile faded away, a look of resignation coming across her face.

Her hands delved into the box, a silver collar clutched between them so tightly that Lance was sure she was going to break it in half. She looked between the collar and Lance many times, her hesitance pulling at his heartstrings. “Go on.” He urged, lifting his chin to make it easier for her, “You and I both know that we can’t say no.”

Maia turned her gaze to him again, letting an expression of determination overpower the pain on her face. With deft fingers, she unclasped the collar’s mechanism and slid it around Lance’s neck, letting it close. The collar’s lock snapped into place and Lance swallowed harshly, feeling the collar move with the motion.

Four more shackles emerged from the box and Lance held perfectly still as they were snapped around his wrists and ankles.

The fog had receded for the time being and he enjoyed a moment of lucidity, looking over his reflection critically.

Despite the situation, Maia really had phenomenal taste. The jewelry that draped his body was carefully chosen and had he been anywhere else, he would have admired how it fit the shape of his shoulders and traced the dip of his waist. The long cascade of silver that dangled from his bellybutton would shift as he walked, drawing even more attention to flip of the fabric of his pants. All in all, he looked exotic, something that he would have expected out of some re-make of Arabian Nights.

He gave Maia an impressed look and she shrugged, cleaning up the mess that she had made while piercing. “What now?” He managed to croak, knowing for sure that this would be the last time in a while that he would be able to pull together enough of himself to speak.

“Now we wait.” Maia said simply, “Lotor will probably return soon, if for no other reason than to parade you around. Just be prepared. The side effects will be unlike anything that you’ve ever felt.”

Lance nodded numbly, his limbs relaxing once again as the drug pulled him back under, a quiet hum building in his chest as the dream pulled him all the way in.

He let it wash over him like a wave, a sugary sweetness to it that tempted Lance even farther down. He reached out in his mind, a part of him recoiling when he could still feel Blue’s comforting presence in the back of his mind. She seemed just as surprised, an undercurrent of alarm running through her as she pressed her consciousness alongside his. He tried to send soothing waves back to her but her alarm only grew, a half heard echo of a fiery purr pushing in alongside Blue’s more sedate expression.

Dimly he recognized Red as the fiery presence, her consciousness much weaker than he had hoped and he sent waves of peace in her direction, not even flinching when she responded with a snarl.

Time ceased to have meaning as he drifted, completely unaware of the world outside of his body. He spent time sending waves of comfort and peace to the Lions he could feel, unable to really comprehend Red but sure that Blue was growing more and more concerned, as well as more faint.

She grew further and further away from him and within his happy bubble of contentment, his peace began to sour. Blue reached for him and he for her but soon not even their desperate reaches for one another seemed to have any effect. Her presence faded from his mind and he mourned the loss of her steadying waves. Without her, Red seemed to grow louder, an insistent snarl that reached for the anger at the core of his being and stirred it like a boiling pot.

Red finally purred in approval as anger overtook his peaceful floating, an undercurrent of rage grounding him. With the grounding came the first waves of pain, a fire under his skin that he couldn’t escape.

Lucidity returned abruptly and he gasped, eyes rolling back in his skull as his back arched, nerves unsure of where to focus. The breath stilled in his throat and he wheezed, lungs refusing to pull in any more air. His skin felt like it was melting.

Lance stared sightlessly at the ceiling, praying for something to stop this pain.

There couldn’t be anything worse than what he was going through now.

Clawed hands pried his teeth apart, a thick stream of liquid sliding down his paralyzed throat. Panic ripped at him when the fire only blazed hotter, a conflagration underneath his skin.

A scream pulled itself from his throat and he scrabbled at his skin with his fingernails, desperately trying to find relief. Rough hands pinned his wrists and he thrashed, head aching.

With all the slowness of Hunk in the morning, the fire abated, leaving behind nothing but the memory and a distinctly tingly feeling at the bottom of his right foot. Lance opened his eyes wearily, not even surprised to find himself once again at Lotor’s feet.

The Galra on the bridge stared at him in horror, their faces twisted into grotesque expressions even as Lotor grinned down at him. “So?” He murmured, “What do you think of your hospitality so far, Blue?”

“It leaves something to be desired.” Lance replied, his voice naught but a hoarse croak.

Lotor chuckled at his response, eyes tracing over his decorated body almost hungrily. “We’ll have to work on that, won’t we?” Lotor purred, “Send my regards to Maia. She outdid herself this time.”

Guards came at Lotor’s call, hands almost reverent as they pulled him up from the floor. “Oh and lovely little Blue?” Lotor smirked, “Do try and get some sleep tonight. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

Lance shuddered at Lotor’s tone but allowed the guards to drag him down the hall, the chains still attached to the shackles on his ankles making a cacophony as they returned him to the trophy room. Maia met him at the door, watching the guards with hawk-like eyes. They passed him to her care easily, not once questioning her.

Relaxing into her grasp, Lance gave her a lazy smile. “Hello, lovely.” He grinned, smile broadening when she clicked her tongue at him.

“Little lion, what am I going to do with you?”

Lance shrugged, letting her guide him into the deep indentation in the center of the room. He sunk into one of the piles of pillows with a blissful sigh, entire body exhausted and sore. “I feel like I did the first time Allura locked us in the training room.” He mumbled, “Especially when Shiro made everyone start sparring. Keith kicked my ass so many times. Don’t tell him I said that.”

Maia chuckled, patting his head softly. “Don’t worry. I shall not tell your Keith anything you don’t wish me to. Do you still feel him?”

Lance laid still for a moment, letting his mind broaden, searching for the other paladins as he often did when they were flying. “I don’t feel any of them. The only thing I can feel is Red and she isn’t even my Lion.”

“Perhaps that will be for the best for now.” Maia nodded, “That means that your connection hasn’t fully developed yet.”

“How long does that kind of connection typically take?” Lance sighed, wiggling his body a bit so that he slid between two pillows, comfortably surrounded by cushiony goodness.

“It depends on who is involved in the bond and the length of time the bond-mates have had romantic feelings for each other. If it’s been a long courtship, the bond forms rather quickly, even with distance. It is a strong connection, one that takes time to form as connecting two bodies and two minds is a chemical process in Galras. Chemical processes always move at their own pace, unless catalysts are introduced.” Maia explained, tilting her head back against the pillows wearily.

A tiny head popped out of the pillows at Lance’s side and he jumped when Kore made a sharp sound of surprise, clambering her way out of her little cave to snuggle between the same pillows that Lance had buried himself under. “She did this when I first met her too. Does she just bury herself for hours at a time?”

“Kore’s father belonged to a subterranean species, the Andovar. She always feels more comfortable in confining, dark areas. It’s part of the reason that we keep the trophy room so dark. Her eyes are even more sensitive than other Galra.” Maia murmured, reaching one hand out to pet the top of Kore’s head even as she snuggled against Lance’s chest, “She really has taken to you.”

“I love kids.” Lance said softly, letting one heavily shackled hand rest lightly on Kore’s back, “I have many siblings and my mother was very busy with all of us. My older siblings and I always pitched in where we could, especially with helping with Stella.”

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Six.”

Maia sputtered in surprise, wide eyes going to Lance’s face. “Your mother is a goddess to give birth to so many and live.”

Lance laughed in agreement, eyelids feeling heavy. “She rules the house with an iron fist too.”

“As she should.” Maia said approvingly, curling closer to where Lance and Kore were snuggled together, “And speaking of should, we should try to get some sleep while we can. Tomorrow is another day after all.”

“Yes, Space Galra Mom.” Lance teased, reaching out with his free hand to where Maia sat, “Thank you.”

~~~~

Maia stared at the human, his words taking far too long to make sense to her ears. Did he just call her Mom?

Once his breath had evened and she was sure that he was asleep, she crept forward, letting one hand rest cautiously on his head. He seemed to relax under her touch and something in her chest caved, a feeling similar to the very first time she had held Kore in her arms.

Oh no. She could not let herself get this attached.

The Paladin would not be remaining with them, Voltron and its Lions were no doubt on their way here to retrieve him. Of that, Maia was certain. The smell of his friends clung to him, particularly that of his Keith.

They would not abandon him to Lotor.

It was precisely why she couldn’t let herself be his “Space Galra Mom”. He would leave them soon and if the rumors were true, and Voltron’s princess was indeed the Altean princess, there was no way she would allow one of her paladins to bring Galra upon her ship.

A thought stopped her in her tracks and she looked once more to the boy she had decorated at Lotor’s command and mused over the undeniably Galra scent that surrounded him. One of the paladins had Galra heritage. Could the Princess have moved past what happened to her people?

Would she be willing to shelter them?

For the first time in many years, probably for the first time since she had held Kore in her arms, Maia allowed herself to hope. To hope that one day, Kore might know a life outside of these walls, outside of being a trophy for Lotor to decorate and show off.

Decided, Maia let her hand lay more solidly on Lance’s brow, an expression of contentment crossing his face under her care. She let herself frown only once at how trusting he was, how easily he allowed Kore under his skin. Lotor may have had a point when he pointed out how protective Lance was.

He was far too kind for his own good.

A smile crossed her face as she watched them sleep, instincts urging her to curl around them and protect them.

She would protect them.

Satisfaction hummed under her skin as she gave in to the impulse, curling around the lump of pillows that hid both Kore and Lance from the door. Only once she had curled close enough to hear the faint hum in Lance’s chest and Kore’s chirpy purr did she relax.

Sleep claimed them quickly and she purred deep in her chest as the night passed.

Morning found them tangled together, the chains of Lance’s jewelry bound up in part of Kore’s fur even as Maia’s hand had fallen asleep when Lance’s head had come to rest upon her arm. Maia felt her chest lighten as Lance laughed at their predicament, long fingers deftly coming to untangle Kore’s fur, his dull nails much gentler in the process than she could have been.

Kore snuggled into him as soon as she was free despite Lance’s protests, his face lighting up as he allowed her to curl herself as close to him as possible. “What should I expect today?” Lance asked quietly, hardly moving as Kore went back to sleep, her subterranean heritage pushing her to sleep longer than other races.

“Every prize is different.” Maia explained, sobering as Lance looked at her sharply, the calculation behind his eyes reminding her that despite how young and friendly he was, he was a soldier.

“Different how?”

“Different in how Lotor chooses to shape them.” Maia continued, a pain in her chest as she glanced over him, “He prides himself on his aesthetics and frequently chooses to change his prizes to better fit his conception of beauty.”

“You don’t look like you’ve been changed.” Lance said quietly, a hand placed protectively on Kore’s back.

“Our master has always preferred the shape of his own people to remain unchanged.” Maia said bitterly, remembering Lotor’s crooning words to her after her own capture.

“So I can expect to turn purple at some point?” Lance joked, the joke falling flat when Maia only fixed him with a sharp look.

She could recognize that he was attempting to use humor to make himself feel better but it had been a weak joke, all things considered. “That was an awful joke.”

“Yeah, I know. Not my best.” He smirked, the expression making his face look even younger in the dim light of the trophy room, “You wouldn’t be able to contain yourself if you heard my best jokes.”

“I will attempt to suspend my disbelief.” Maia deadpanned, watching as Lance lit up at her teasing.

She smiled broadly at him and he chuckled, rubbing small circles on Kore’s back. “I’m really glad I met you two.” He said quietly, looking down at the child on his chest fondly, “I wish it had been in different circumstances but all I’ve met of the Galra before you guys are Zarkon’s soldiers and the Blade of Marmora. Not exactly the best examples of your species. Up until yesterday, I had no idea what a Galra child looked like. Now that I do know, I don’t think I can look at the Empire the same way. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still going to fight to take Zarkon and Lotor down but there’s more to it than that. What happens to all the kids like Kore when we defeat Zarkon?”

Maia blinked in surprise at his mature line of thinking, a level of reasoning beyond his years evident in his words. “You’ve been considering this.”

“I was considering it a bit before but now that I’ve met you guys, it’s all I can really focus on, aside from wanting to get as far away from Prince Fancypants as is physically possible.” Lance sighed, “I worry. It’s kind of what I do.”

Nodding in understanding, Maia moved to her feet, needing some kind of movement to wake up her joints after so long in a stationary position. “I fear that it is a question that needs more thought given to it. After being under Zarkon’s rule for so long, my people don’t know any other life. It would be difficult to adjust and I know many races do not look upon us kindly. It would be an uphill battle for all involved.”

Silence fell upon the dark room and Lance stared at the center of the pillow pile in contemplation. “I’ll keep thinking about it.”

Maia gazed upon him proudly, approval apparent in the purr rumbling from her chest. Even if he wasn’t really her kit, he was making her proud.

The doors cracked open and they both looked to the intrusion, expressions immediately dropping defensively. The Prince strode in imperiously, feathery hair shifting around his shoulders as he came to a stop at the edge of the pillow pile, yellow eyes locked on Lance and the child sleeping on his chest. “Good morning to you, little Blue. I trust that you slept well.”

“As well as could be expected when I know you’re still alive.” Lance sneered, an unfamiliar anger in his face, a fury that made Maia slightly fearful of the child in front of her.

“There’s that tongue again.” Lotor sighed, pulling another black vial from his belt, “Do we need to resort to other measures once more?”

Lance drew himself up as regally as possible while still holding Kore to his chest, the jewelry decorating his form making him look just as royal as the Prince looking down upon him. “You can drug me as much as you want, Lotor. It won’t change anything.”

“You say that now, Blue, but everyone has a breaking point.” Lotor hissed, “I’m sure you’ve noticed but your friends have yet to come for you. Perhaps you weren’t as important to them as you thought.”

“I trust my friends.”

Maia let the paladin’s words wash over her, his unshakable faith giving her hope once more. Despite how brave he looked, she could almost hear his pounding heartbeat, the rattle of it waking Kore from where she laid against his chest.

Meeting the eyes of her daughter, Maia shared an expression of worry with her small child. Kore clung tighter to Lance, squeezing her eyes shut to shield them from the much brighter lights of the hallway.

The staring contest between Lance and Lotor went on in silence for a few minutes more before a smile curved Lotor’s lips and took a step closer to the pillow pile. “I cannot wait to see your faith fail, Paladin. It would be one of the supreme joys in my life to watch that light of hope die in your eyes. I’ll savor it like a fine wine and finally, once I’ve had my fun and broken you as far as I can, I will take great pride in sending your corpse back to your planet. It will be my first gift to your people.”

Lance paled at Lotor’s words but kept his gaze steady, raising his chin in defiance. “Try as much as you want, _cabrón.”_ Lance promised, “But when Voltron comes, we will defeat you and leave your fleet in ruins.”

Lotor frowned at the word Lance called him and Maia cocked her head to the side as the language did not translate with the technology in the trophy room. She had understood Lance perfectly up to that point but for some reason, she hadn’t the slightest idea what Lance had called the Prince. From the look on Lotor’s face, neither did he.

And it infuriated him.

Lotor reached into the pillow pile faster than Maia could react and grasped at length of chain attached to Lance’s collar. He pulled Lance out of the pile he was half buried in, even as Kore clung to the boy. As Lance dangled from Lotor’s grip, one hand holding onto Kore while the other tried to grab onto Lotor’s wrist in an attempt to not choke. “Do not prove to be more trouble than you’re worth, Blue.” Lotor hissed, “I can treat you as a prisoner, if that is what you wish. I do keep druids on this ship. I could happily give you over to their care. Take pride in how lovely you are. It’s the only thing saving you from their tender mercies.”

With his free hand, Lotor uncapped the vial and poured the poison into Lance’s open mouth when the boy gasped. Lance swallowed with a cough and Lotor dropped him into the pillows before turning his yellow gaze onto Maia.

“How very daring of you to let your kit grow so attached to a Paladin of Voltron. Does she know how many of her kind he has killed?” Lotor purred, reaching up to caress the side of Maia’s face.

“Kore has nothing to fear from the Blue Paladin.” Maia said quietly, flinching at Lotor’s touch.

Lotor chuckled at her words, tilting her chin up so that he could look at her. “Yet. Terrible things happen during the reshaping process, as I’m sure you know. It would be terrible if something where to happen to your kit while the human was not in possession of his reason.”

Maia’s gaze hardened at the thinly veiled threat to her kit, a snarl working its way up her throat. “Kore has nothing to fear from the Blue Paladin.” Maia repeated, “And neither do I.”

Peering at her carefully, Lotor leaned closer, his long white hair falling over his shoulder and making Maia’s nose twitch. “Be careful, Maia.” Lotor smiled darkly, “It wouldn’t do for you to treat him like your child. Why give me one more thing to hold over your head? You can’t protect this one.”

A jangle of chain caught their attention and they turned to look at the pillow pile, a gasping Lance glaring at them from where he laid. Kore had the chains across in his chest clutched in her hands, a terror in her eyes that made Maia’s blood run cold. “His heart doesn’t sound right.” Kore whispered, staring at the expanse of dusky skin she had been laying upon earlier.

“So Skaridia poisons humans faster than other races.” Lotor sniffed, “Hm. I suppose we’ll have to find something else for the time being. I’d hate to lose him so quickly. We haven’t even begun to reshape him.”

A sharp alarm blared through the compound, the click of an intercom almost muted after the burst of sound. “Your Highness, the flagship just reported that they’ve been locked onto. They’re also reporting a mass of system failures.”

Laughter pulled itself from Lotor’s chest and he directed his gaze back to Lance, triumph in his yellow eyes. “Even with your hint, they still can’t find you.” Lotor taunted, “Your code helped no one.”

Instead of responding, the light in Lance’s eyes went dull and fuzzy, a quick return to his catatonic state of yesterday. Kore pressed one fluffy ear to his chest, eyes wide and scared. “Lance friend isn’t here again. He went back under the ocean.”

Lotor frowned at Kore’s words, turning away from them to return to the open door. “Make him presentable. I will be back for him momentarily.”

Maia inclined her head, aware that Lotor would not see the motion, waiting patiently until the door closed behind him before racing to Lance’s side, a deep fear pounding in her chest. Kore reached out for her hand and pressed it to Lance’s thin chest, the fragile bird like bones beneath the surface making Maia hesitant. “The bad stuff they gave to Lance friend is hurting him. His heart keeps falling over itself. The beat doesn’t stay, Mama.” Kore said fearfully, “Is Lance friend going to die?”

“I don’t know, little one.” Maia choked, “We can only hope that the Prince decides to keep him alive.”

~~~~

Lance floated in the strange in-between world once more, pain centering in his chest with a terrible regularity. He could feel a weight there but the drug had pulled him under the waves almost immediately, a hazy darkness overtaking him not long after the strange sweetness had touched his tongue.

Through the fog, he could hear Red once more, her anger and urgency battering at his mind. Her insistence made him think of Keith and how much he missed him.

How much he missed all of them, really.

Red demanded his attention, trying to bring him to focus once more but Lance floated too far, the fire associated with the Red Lion stifled in the ocean that was Lance. He sank to the bottom and let himself stay, an almost comforting numbness building over his skin.

Didn’t Maia say that it wouldn’t kill him so quickly?

Maybe humans were more susceptible. That was a shame.

Red roared at him once more, her voice stronger than it had been the day before, the strength in her call sending a rough tempest through Lance’s mind ocean. Her roar roused his anger, the barely hidden current of wrath that he kept buried under the soothing waves of blue.

Everyone seemed to forget just how deep the ocean went. What it hid beneath the tranquil surface. Sailors feared the ocean’s changing moods, the tempestuous rage it could erupt into when sufficiently inspired.

Red inspired those turbulent currents to the surface, the fire she represented whipping the ocean of Lance’s mind into a typhoon. She pulled on his emotions, urging the numbness away, calling him to rage against his circumstances.

Lance felt Red’s call and felt angry.

Rage consumed the numbness like a wildfire and he came back to himself, feeling the fire of yesterday begin to smolder along the edges of his consciousness. As he opened his eyes blearily, he could immediately tell that this dose had blazed through his body far, far quicker than yesterday, a fact that now left him with a pit of fear in his stomach.

A yank around his neck pulled him even further into consciousness, a curse that would have made his mother gasp slipping from his mouth as he slid across a metal floor, the slender collar around his neck threatening to choke him.

He grasped at the end of the chain like a lifeline, opening his eyes once more to see a blur of colors and the familiar fuzziness of a view screen.

Lotor’s voice filtered into his ears first, the taunting tone of his words making Lance’s skin crawl.

“Do you like what I’ve done so far?” He chuckled, the sharp point of one claw stinging down the side of Lance’s jaw, “Already he looks more fitting to be an ornament to me. Perhaps I’ll make him a permanent fixture.”

Lance turned his still foggy gaze towards the camera, just barely making out the shape of his friends on the screen.

“What’s wrong with him…” Came the softest whisper, the sound of Hunk’s concern tugging at Lance’s heartstrings.

Hand tightening in the chain that held Lance immobile, Lotor leaned forward, excitement pouring off him in waves. “I’m so glad you asked. You see, he was bit… spirited, after our first conversation. So my lovely attendants and I did our best to help him relax. The reshaping process is much easier once my prizes relax into their new roles.” Lotor murmured, a conspiratory tone to his voice, “A dash of Skaridia always does the trick.”

Through the screen, Lance could see Allura’s hands fly to the general region of her face, Lotor making a sound of surprise at her reaction. “Oh my, princess. You know of it. How scandalous.”

“I know of what it does.” Allura raged, her voice making Lance worry just a bit more about the drug currently wreaking havoc on his system, “I also know that if you continue to give it to him, he’ll die!”

Lance felt a measure of warmth come to him at her words, the genuine panic and concern affirming his faith in his princess.

She really did care.

“Oh, I am well aware of its effects, dearest Allura. I have no intention of killing your precious Paladin. Not just yet anyway.” Lotor sniffed, an almost pouty tone to his voice, “He’s been far more cooperative under its effects but you seem to have fallen into my trap at the perfect time. Today’s dose is wearing off.”

As Lotor spoke, the fire surged under Lance’s skin, his heart stuttering in his chest. He could feel his face contort, nerves misfiring so quickly that he couldn’t really figure out where the pain would strike him next. His body tried to curl into a smaller target to get away from the wave of pain but Lotor’s unerring hold on his chain held him in view of his friends. The chain lifted him higher and Lotor’s voice once again rang in his ear. “Of course, if he can function well enough to give you a hint remains to be seen.”

Lotor’s words inspired Lance to steel himself, pushing the crippling pain and the fire beneath his kin to the back of his mind and turning his eyes to the stricken faces of his friends.

His heart cracked at how haggard they all looked, the fear and worry in their expressions pulling strength from him. He tried to give them his signature grin but the muscles in his face refused to cooperate. “I guess… the hint… didn’t work out… so well, huh?” He gasped, barely able to breathe as the fire sank deeper, “It was a bit of a long shot.”

Lance watched as guilt crossed their features, a knife-like pain in his chest hitting him as he realized that his words put that expression there. He met Pidge’s eyes boldly, apology in his gaze. “Unfortunately, I can’t think of much else.”

Lotor tugged at Lance’s collar once more, a simpering look of pity in his yellow eyes. “Now now, Blue. They’re getting a hint, not an apology.” He smirked, pity making way for triumph, “If anything, they should apologize to you. If they were truly your friends and comrades, how could they not understand how to decode the hint you gave them?”

Fury surged in Lance’s veins, a righteous anger on behalf of his teammates flaring in his chest. He turned a glare on his captor and bared his teeth in a snarl that felt far closer to feral than was strictly healthy. “You don’t know anything about my friends.”

“So protective.” Lotor tutted, eyes flicking to the side of the bridge, “Don’t’ forget that’s what got you in this mess to begin with. But tick tock, precious present. The next stage of your shaping is drawing closer. Either give your hint or keep silent. The result will remain the same.”

Lance let his disgust for his captor bleed onto his face before following Lotor’s glance to the side of the bridge. His heart immediately sank into his stomach when he spotted the druid standing beside the door patiently, mask trained unerringly on Lance. Fear crossed his face briefly before he look back to the screen, another figure stumbling onto the Castle’s bridge.

A weight that had been crushing Lance’s shoulders eased as he locked with Keith’s violet gaze, a visceral feeling of relief flooding him.

The relief was followed by a yearning so sharp that Lance felt it like a punch to the stomach. In that moment, he would have traded anything in the world to be on the other side of the screen, safe with his friends.

Safe with Keith.

With great difficulty, he dragged his eyes from Keith and focused on Pidge, the Spanish leaving his tongue without conscious thought.

“ _Siga el rojo.”_

Lance recognized the moment that Lotor’s amusement turned to anger. He hit the floor hard, a jangle of chains the only noise. The fire under his skin flared up once more and his teeth snapped together, trapping a scream behind them.

“Disobeying again. Perhaps, a different kind of shaping will be required.” Lotor hissed, falling silent before a hum of consideration left him, “I have just the idea. Until next time, princess.”

The click of the view screen echoed through the bridge with all the finality of a death knell. Lance curled into himself, a yelp leaving him when Lotor flipped him to his back with the sharp point of one boot. A guard stomped forward, pinning him to the floor with his weight, a pale vial forced between Lance’s teeth.

As with before, Lance convulsed as the antidote waged war with the poison in his system, his body their battered battlefield. The guard pinning him had the grace to look bothered as Lance seized, a prayer for mercy slipping between his teeth in broken bits of English and Spanish.

By the time Lance was reasonably sure that he could breathe again, the guard above him was regarding him with the same strange reverence that Lotor had given him yesterday. “What?” Lance spat, pulling at the wrists the guard had pinned to the floor.

“You live.”

“No thanks to you overgrown purple chinchillas.” Lance hissed, the guard recoiling at the venom in his voice.

Shuffling off him awkwardly, the guard forced him to his knees in front of Lotor, the Galra Prince looking between them curiously. “Impressive, is he not?” Lotor purred, eyes locked on Lance, “For one so small, he fights very hard.”

“Yes, my Prince.” The guard said simply, careful grip holding Lance in place.

“Truly a warrior through and through, aren’t you, Blue?” Lotor sing-songed, climbing to his feet, an air of anticipation about him.

The druid strode forward silently, the unnerving presence making Lance tremble.

This was one of the druids that still frightened Shiro so badly, one of the creatures responsible for the deadly robotic arm that Shiro wielded.

And now they stared as Lance impassively, unseen eyes raking over Lance’s skin with an intensity that he could feel down to the very marrow of his bones.

“What are your orders, my Prince?” The druid said at last, their echoing voice sending chills down Lance’s spine.

“So many different paths, I find it hard to pick just one.” Lotor chuckled, seemingly oblivious to the druid’s growing irritation.

“I must implore you to try, my Prince.”

A grin curved over Lotor’s face and Lance got the sinking feeling that Lotor knew exactly what he was doing with this druid and was doing so on purpose. He fidgeted as the taunting reminded him far too much of what he used to do with people he didn’t like.

“I was given a rather interesting idea while speaking with the princess. It really is too bad that she is the last of her kind. It would be most generous of me to at least give her a facsimile of her people.” Lotor smirked, locking his eyes upon Lance.

“You wish for me to make the Paladin appear Altean?” The druid said bluntly, the words making Lance stare at Lotor in disbelief.

After everything that Allura had already been through, Lotor wanted to make it worse? In that moment, Lance vowed that when he left here, he would make sure that Lotor suffered.

He swore it.

Lotor’s amusement seemed to multiply with the druid’s response, and he gave them a coy glance. “If it’s beyond your capability, I can find another way.” He baited, yellow eyes sharp.

The druid bristled at his tone, the challenge inherent in it making Lance nervous.

He felt like the last garlic know left at a family dinner, an object caught between two opposing forces. Caught between a rock and a hard place, so to speak.

It was unsettling.

“Such a thing is so far below the limits of my capabilities that it is laughable for you to consider that I would be unable to do it.” The druid bit out, the strain in their voice making it clear just how much they were holding back, “Will that be all, my Prince?”

“’That is merely the first step.” Lotor said airily, gesturing flippantly at the guard behind Lance, “I will fill you in on rest of my design as we go.”

The guard at Lance’s back jerked him to his feet, the jangle of his chains drowning out Lotor’s instructions to the druid.

As Lance faced down the hallway, the silent footsteps of the druid behind him, he could only pray that they would find him soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, this was always kind of intended to be a bit of a study into Lance's character and how he would interact in these types of situations. I've also always kind of wondered how the paladins would react with seeing the Galra beyond the soldiers they were fighting or the Blades of Mamora.  
> Thus, Maia and Kore!  
> Next chapter, we have more of the lovely stuff going on with Lance and the story will move ahead on the timeline.  
> All art of this chapter is courtesy of a commission of the lovely suitboxers! Here!


	4. Like Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lotor steps up his game and Lance's rebellion does not garner the results he expects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, I'm a monster.

Thordis gazed down at the squirming human bound to the table, displeasure evident in their gaze.

Was this what druids were being reduced to? The unwilling servants to the esoteric designs of Lotor’s inscrutable aesthetics?

They prodded at the human roughly, hoping that the sharpness of their claws would encourage him to cease with the unending stream of drivel that spilled from his lips.

The frown that marred their face beneath the druidic mask only deepened as the human did _not_ take the hint, the subject of his ramblings now serving to harangue the druids in general, a great deal of slurs concerning Lady Haggar dropping from his mouth like venom.

Resisting the urge to snap his slender neck, Thordis moved closer to the examination table, trying once more to understand just what about this human had inspired Lotor to defy Lady Haggar.

He was slender, the bones of his chest and face fine like that of an exotic bird. The links of silver that draped him lazily contrasted with his dusky skin in an objectively pleasing way, the difference in color making his coloring very similar to that of the Altean princess. The deep purple fabric that cloaked his legs revealed teasing glimpses of skin as he struggled, his strangely shaped feet left bare, stubby toes flexing with his movement.

Silver helped to conceal the unnatural roundness of his ears and the dark curls of his hair almost seemed to invite the invasion of hands. Thordis felt their claws itch to feel the texture of that fine hair, something beyond pulling them towards the paladin.

Thordis reigned themselves in with great difficulty, recognizing at last what lay underneath the thin veneer of smooth skin and pretty human boy.

Blue quintessence.

The very core of the Blue Lion, the energy that gave her life blazed in the veins of her paladin. He was a perfect match, a true mimic of the magnetism that made the Blue Lion so important to the building of Voltron.

Lotor held the Heart of Voltron and he had no idea.

The Blue Paladin stilled under their gaze, cerulean eyes narrowed as he stared back, challenge evident in his expression. “I realize that I’m gorgeous but if you’re just gonna stare, at least untie me first. I could give you a better pose to obsess over.” He drawled, the words clearly meant to defuse the fear he felt.

Thordis pulled back from their reverie, filing away their discovery for later. It was a discovery that would prove most fruitful to Lady Haggar. “I have not yet achieved the task I have been assigned.” Thordis said simply, letting a hand come to rest on the silky skin of the paladin’s forehead, “Until I have been successful, you will remain bound.”

The paladin shivered under their touch, actively trying to shift away from their grasping claws. Guards stood posted around the room, trying and failing to disguise their interest in the events that were to come.

Lotor’s instructions repeated themselves in Thordis’ mind, the list of changes growing more difficult as the Prince had gone on. Some would take time, delving into the cellular structure of the human bound to the table. Others would be quick but so painful that it brought a smile to Lotor’s face when he had described them.

The shaping would be an endeavor but Thordis welcomed the challenge, despite themselves. They welcomed the chance to prove themselves to Lady Haggar and her tutelage. It would be the first of many chances to extract vengeance from the paladins of Voltron for their crimes against Emperor Zarkon and the glorious Galra Empire.

Yes. Thordis would enjoy this.

“Our Prince has quite the itinerary for you, Blue Paladin. A very _detailed_ itinerary.” Thordis taunted, taking great pleasure in the way rage came to blaze in the blue of the paladin’s eyes, “You had best make yourself comfortable.”

“I’d be more comfortable if you flew yourself into the nearest sun.” The Paladin spat, the weakness from the Skaridia clearly not affecting his wicked tongue.

A grin overtook Thordis’ frown and they let their hand skate down to the human’s ears, a satisfaction building in their chest at how soon it would be until the ugly, rounded shape would be replaced.

For the first time, Thordis understood Lotor.

They took their time pulling their quintessence to the surface of their fingertips, savoring the fear from the Blue Paladin and how it filled the air around him. He smelled so sweet when he was afraid, the charge of electricity before the storm. Thordis inhaled deeply, mulling the scent like a fine wine.

There was a slight tinge of other scents about him, the strongest of which belonged to the half-breed child that Lotor kept as a pet. Thordis sorted through it without much thought, dismissing the scent of the female Galra prize as well. They paused as another Galra scent emanated from the Paladin, the strengthening smell immediately tipping Thordis off to its source.

“I see that your half-breed is coming into his own.” Thordis hissed, “How very quaint that he would choose the same path as his mother before him: mating a human.”

Thordis leaned back with a chuckle as the scent of fear thickened, the sweetness of the human before them almost intoxicating. “Do you think he’ll still want you when I’m done?” Thordis whispered, voice pitched low and sibilant, “After I’ve changed you? After I’ve made you look the way Lotor wants? Will he still love you? Find you beautiful…?”

The human trembled in his bonds, teeth bared in a snarl. “Shut up!”

“Is that what you fear, paladin? That after all you’ve been through, after your sacrifice, that he won’t want you anymore?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” The paladin growled, eyes flashing with the promise of violence, his struggles increasing in effort, “Keith wouldn’t do that to me!”

“You’re so sure of his love?” Thordis crooned, letting just a few claws fall prey to the intoxicating invitation of the paladin’s curls, “What about your team then? Will they still accept you when you look like a monster? Because that’s what you’ll be. An unholy mixture of traits and torture. They won’t recognize you, Blue Paladin.”

The trembling in the human before them was almost too much, waves of rage and fear crashing over Thordis with wild abandon. Blue quintessence was truly something else. It urged you closer and Thordis could feel the urge to claim it, the need to keep it for themselves.

Their own quintessence sparked sharply against the human’s scalp and he flinched, a badly stifled hiss slipping out through his teeth. “My team won’t abandon me.” He protested, quieter than the words he had spoken in defense of his mate, but no less impassioned.

Thordis zeroed in on the current of doubt that wove through his words, freeing their claws from the paladin’s hair and letting them rest on the heavily pierced shell of his ears. “They won’t mean to, oh of course they won’t.” Thordis said even more quietly, feeling the words drop off their tongue like knives, “But how will your princess be able to look at you and not see the people she’s lost? A constant reminder that she’s alone. And our beloved Champion…how will he react? Lotor wants you to look fiercer. The Champion will never be able to relax with you. Your human friends will fear you. When I’m done, when I have completed my objective, Blue Paladin, you won’t recognize yourself. And at that point, when I have broken your spirit, I will deliver you to Haggar and you will give us Voltron.”

“You will _never_ have Voltron.” The Blue Paladin promised, the absolute certainty in his words unsettling Thordis for a moment, “I will die before I betray my friends.”

“We shall see about that, Paladin.”

Allowing their quintessence to fully engulf the tips of their fingers, Thordis pressed their hands against the paladin’s ears. Under their careful scrutiny, they urged the energy to slip into the paladin’s body, engulfing his cells in the thrall of druidic quintessence. A noise of confused pain left him and his struggles renewed in earnest, trying to throw off the claws the clamped down harder on his tender ears. They held the image of the Altean princess in their mind, focusing on the shape of her ears. The cells beneath their thrall moved accordance with their will, the noises of pain coming from the paladin suddenly stifled as he clenched his teeth together tightly, eyes screwed shut, rescuing Thordis from their accusing depths.

The shape of the appendages changed under their fingertips, newly pierced skin stretching and breaking over and over. Tears seeped from under the paladin’s eyelids and Thordis purred, pushing the quintessence once more. Crimson ran from the tearing piercings, pooling under his head and caking into his hair. His ears took their new shape quickly but Thordis took their time moving the piercings around the new outline, settling them into an aesthetic pattern as well as drawing the process out in order to hear the muffled sounds of pain from between the paladin’s teeth.

By the time the wounds had been resolved under Thordis’ careful hands, blood had dried thickly on the table and matted the curls of the paladin’s hair. He gave short, sharp breaths, seemingly unwilling to open his eyes. While he relaxed, Thordis pressed their thumbs underneath his eyes, letting their curves rest on the sharp peak of his cheekbones nearest to the far corner of his eye.

The briefest pulse of quintessence was all that was needed to manipulate a facsimile of the Altean eye scale but the paladin let out a yelp at the surprise pain, eyes watering once more. Thordis let their hands fall back to their sides, the paladin peeking open one pale eye when thirty seconds had passed without more pain.

Both eyes opened and Thordis ruthlessly suppressed a purr of satisfaction.

They had gotten the color to match perfectly. The cerulean eye scales beside his equally pale eyes flashed in the dim light of the medical bay, far more luminescent than the Altean eye scales of the past but equally as striking. Under their hands, he had become a dead ringer for a member of Altean royalty, save for the darkness of his hair.

A new scent emanated from the paladin and Thordis looked at him in confusion. Why would the paladin feel shame? Did he think there was anything he could do about this?

“Why do you feel shamed, Blue Paladin? Do you harbor such feelings against Alteans?”

“Why I feel what I do won’t mean anything to you.” The paladin whispered, voice breaking.

Thordis hummed at his response, not entirely curious enough to follow the line of reasoning but content to allow him to break himself. It would make their job far easier later. They looked up to the darkened observation window, letting their voice carry through the rest of the room. “Phase 1 has been completed, my Prince.”

“Proceed to the next phase of the design.” Lotor replied lazily, the tone of his voice suggesting an airy wave of the hand, “It seems the Castle of Lions escaped the bomb I left for them. So the timetable needs to be compressed.”

“Did you hear, paladin? Your friends live.”

An almost relieved laugh burst from his chest and Thordis clicked their tongue at his relaxation. “Relief? Oh my, paladin. That’s not what you should be feeling right now. Do you know what this means?” Thordis whispered, words echoing off their mask, “That means you will stay on this table until I’m done. If your friends had disappeared, Lotor would have given you time to grow used to your changes, a few days to resign yourself to your new reality. Now we get to do it all at once.”

~~~~

Lance tried to ignore the druid’s words, knowing that it was only their way of trying to get under his skin, of trying to get him to give up on his friends. But he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything but relief. Whatever Lotor had tried to lure them into had failed.

They _lived._

As long as they lived, there was a chance that he would see them again. Lance let that thought buoy him, Red’s growls echoing in the back of his mind.

Despite not being his Lion, Red had pushed her consciousness alongside his as soon as they strapped him to the table, an almost grudging respect emanating from her fiery presence. Lance didn’t understand the connection he had been feeling between himself and the Red Lion but some deep part of himself had begun to attribute it to the growing longing he had been feeling for Keith since his appearance on the view screen.

His very soul ached for the Red Paladin.

Red tried to give him some semblance of comfort but her gruffness was nothing like Blue’s soothing waves, the tranquility that he identified with so much. He could do with that tranquility right now.

Especially with what they had begun, with what they had already done.

Lance flinched as the druid slid their long claws over the bareness of his chest, the touch making him shudder and shrink away. There was a possessiveness to it that made his stomach churn and he wanted nothing more than to smack their hands, to break fingers and bare his teeth. The eyes behind their mask made him uneasy, a caged rabbit caught beneath the watchful eye of a hawk.

There was something infinitely more sinister about the druid in contrast to Lotor. While Lotor was unapologetically a monster, he was upfront about what he wanted. He wanted to change Lance and tame him, possess him like a pretty trophy.

The druid was something else. There was a deeper feeling of possession in their gaze, an intrinsic knowledge that Lance would end up dissected, taken apart, and dissolved down to his barest molecules before the druid would have what they wanted from him.

The core of his being shrank away from the druid and Lance wanted nothing more than to be elsewhere.

He yelped when he felt the sparks of their electrical quintessence against his skin once more, the sting burrowing itself beneath his skin, deep centers of darkened skin appearing on the tips of his shoulders. The burn deepened and Lance gasped, patterns scrolling away from the deep centers. Sprawling lines crawled across the surface of his chest, symmetrical lines dancing down the planes.

Lance arched away from the inexorable march of the lines, the patterns resolving themselves as almost tattoo-like brands. He could feel their raised texture, a deep pulsating heat making his skin feel like it was going to crawl away.

His body shifted and trembled as the lines made their way down his body, their southward path watched carefully by the druid who started it all.

In contrast to their earlier teasing, silence was all that greeted Lance as he waited, shaking and praying for the pain to end. And painful it was.

It felt like the slow drag of a torch, lines of fire taking their sweet time in caressing his skin. It burned down to his very bones, a brand that he knew he would never be free of.

A brand that would forever remind him of who did this to him.

He let his eyes fall shut once more, tears slipping from under his lids without conscious thought. It was similar to the burning of the Skaridia but the purpose behind it was what did him in. This was not his body trying to fight off a harmful poison, a necessary evil to release him from a foggy prison. He did not endure this pain to spare a child from it. This pain was useless, a monster’s order to make him fit an aesthetic.

By the time the lines of fire met his feet, curling languidly around his toes, Lance’s jaw ached with how tightly he had clenched his teeth, desperate not to give them the satisfaction of his cries.

He wanted to be anywhere but here, anywhere in the whole galaxy but here. As the druid chuckled in the background, Lance let himself give into the longing, the feeling of unfairness, basking in it for just a moment.

Reaching out, he let Red pull him closer to her, the fire of her consciousness making his balk for a moment before she gave him a rough purr. She let him hide himself for a moment in her vast mind before she pressed him back into reality, sharply reminding him of just why he had come to be in this situation.

He had not given himself up for no reason. He had given himself up to protect her Paladin.

Lance had given himself up to protect Keith.

Lance jolted in surprise when he returned to himself, the faintest presence of the Red Paladin brushing along his mind. A half-laugh, half-sob escaped him and he latched onto the faint presence with everything he had. Surprise battered at him from where he could feel Keith but Lance couldn’t bring himself to care.

He could _feel_ Keith.

They were on their way.

Keith’s alarm broadcasted through his mind, the connection similar to the bonds that they had with their lions. Lance couldn’t hear his thoughts or see through his eyes or any other the other sci-fi tropes he had come to associate with mind bonds, but he could feel him. He could feel the fire of his presence on the edge of his awareness, a flickering that threatened to grow stronger.

He pulled on it with everything in him, desperation blazing to life in him.

Only after he had pulled did Maia’s words come back to him.

His frantic mind calmed at that remembrance and he could feel Keith’s confusion, a tremor of pain and fear barely dancing below the surface of their nascent bond.

Lance had to calm down.

If he panicked now, Keith would panic. And a panicked Keith made impulsive decisions.

Like attempting to take on Zarkon by himself. Or barreling his way onto a ship that held a creepy half-Galra Prince.

Letting his eyes open slowly, Lance took in slow, deep breaths, the burning under his skin temporarily ignored in his revelation over the connection building between him and Keith. He could feel the druid’s gaze upon him, contemplation in their silence.

“You can feel him.” They said simply, claws hovering over the start points of his tattoos.

The guards shifted uneasily around the room, an undercurrent of tension pulling at all of them as Lance stared up at his torturer. The silence dragged, a physical weight that Lance could feel clawing at him, the faint questioning from Keith growing in intensity the longer Lance held himself off from answering.

“What are you waiting for?” Lotor demanded at last, his ringing words breaking the silence with all the grace of laser fire.

“I was only observing that the designs were to your specifications, my Prince.” The druid purred, “I would hate to have to redo the pattern.”

Lance had only a moment of realization before he slammed down on the bond between himself and Keith, pushing him away just as quintessence sparked through the newborn brands.

Sparks dug into the center of his being, the well of tranquility that represented his connection to Blue. They tugged and pulled, coaxing deep swirls out of the well, an icy fire tingling through his limbs as it rose to the surface.

The feelings came to center in the brands, a sharp glow imprinting itself on his eyelids. Lance clamped down on his end of the bond desperately, unwilling to share his suffering with Keith. With every pulse of the druid’s quintessence, the hold became looser, his lock on his jaw forgotten in his battle with the bond.

He could hear his screams in the background, a soundtrack of agony that accurately described the immolation that overtook his skin. It ebbed and flowed like the waves of the ocean and Lance struggled against it, pushing Keith away with a ruthlessness that surprised even him.

Keith recoiled from his constant pushing, hurt and confusion warring with a franticness that he didn’t quite understand, if his building frustration was anything to judge by.

Lance let him slip away, forcing himself to be content with Keith’s survival, with his imminent arrival. It would be enough. He could protect his love from this.

From what was being done to him.

The pain swelled again, distracting Lance from the unruly Red Paladin, the Red Lion roaring in his ears. He pulled against his bonds, the druid’s taunting words lost to the symphony of suffering pulling itself from his throat.

He should have known that Keith wouldn’t leave well enough alone.

With all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, Keith smashed through Lance’s hold on the bond, immediately faltering when the pain Lance had been suffering transferred to him.

“That’s the way, Blue Paladin.” The druid crowed, “Let him know what you’ve been suffering for him. What we’re doing because you let yourself be captured in his stead.”

Shock registered from Keith’s end of the bond and Lance tried weakly to separate them once more, Keith’s feelings of guilt and devastation coming to swamp him. Tears dripped from Lance’s eyes once more and this time Lance let them run down, ignoring the druid and the pain to reach out to his love.

His mulleted disaster.

A watery chuckle pulled itself from his chest, the sound strangled and unrecognizable, as he let Keith gravitate closer, giving up on separating them. Rapid waves of remorse and anger assaulted Lance and he let himself float over them, warmth and love trickling down his side of the bond.

The rough waves abated, Keith’s frantic emotions sloping off suddenly, leaving Lance cold and alone once more.

Pulling himself together with great difficulty, Lance set his jaw, aware that the pain had stopped at last only to be replaced by an ache at the center of chest, a hollowness that made him feel drained.

He let his gaze focus on one of the guards, a look of pity evident on their face. They averted their sight when Lance met their eyes, a fact that made Lance look curiously at the other faces in the room. All save the druid looked at him piteously, a few even looking horrified. The druid noticed his eyes and chuckled darkly, smoothing their claws over the now glowing tattoos that adorned his body. “Mates are quite sacred to Galras, paladin. They know that you are claimed.” The druid whispered, drawing Lance’s eyes to the blue shapes that traced his chest, “They know what your mate just suffered.”

Tranquility faded from his veins and he let the rage at the core of his being surge forth, the tattoos in his skin flashing red as he focused all of that rage at the druid above him. “When I get out of here, I will make sure you suffer just as much as he did.”

“That is an easy threat to make, paladin.” The druid said simply, picking up one of Lance’s hands, “Especially as you won’t make it out of here.”

~~~~

Mama paced nervously in the trophy room, the screams of earlier long since passed. Kore clung to one of her legs as she moved, the slight weight of her body barely slowing her down as Mama moved from one corner of the room to the other.

Kore’s tail curled close to her legs as Mama moved, careful to keep it out from under her mother’s feet. She could feel her mother’s anxiety, the vibrations of her heartbeat pounding beneath the skin that Kore had pressed her head to.

She was scared too.

Lance friend had been gone for a long time. After he had taken the bad stuff and gone underneath the ocean, Lotor had taken him away, letting the guards drag him down the hall like a heavy pillow. Kore had wanted to keep Lance here but Mama had hidden her in the corner of the room, keeping a hand over her eyes to keep them safe from the bright lights of the hallway.

It had made Kore angry.

Why couldn’t they leave Lance friend alone? He was kind and funny and let Kore snuggle up to his bony chest, heartbeat like music under her ears. His voice was nice and she liked to listen to him laugh, especially when she could hear the vibrations through his bones.

He had saved her from the bad stuff and tried to keep Lotor away from Mama. Lance friend was cheerful even when he went under the ocean and talked to the cats in his head. He was cheerful when he talked about the Red Paladin that made his heart do a little flip that made Kore giggle.

Why did they have to hurt Lance?

Why did they have to make him scream so badly that Kore could hear it even in her pillow cave? A harsh, drawn out scream that made her fur stand on end. It had scared Mama as well, an idea that Kore did not like very much at all.

It had been a long time since the screams stopped and Kore worried. What would Lance friend be like when they brought him back?

Other trophies had been gone into their heads when they were brought back, pretty dolls with nothing left inside them. Those kinds of trophies scared Kore the most.

Where did they go? How did they leave their bodies behind? Where would the cats go if Lance friend disappeared inside his head?

What about the person whose nice smell surrounded Lance?

A feeling told Kore that it would be very bad if Lance friend disappeared like that. She could feel it deep in her chest, an idea that warned her away from the very idea of Lance being hurt like that. His sharp friend would come with fire and no one would be safe from him.

Mama stilled in her pacing and Kore looked up at her curiously, letting her grip loosen when Mama’s sharp hands came to rest under her arms. Mama pulled her into her embrace, burying her face in Kore’s tiny shoulder.

Kore let her claws rest in her mother’s hair, letting her chirpy purr rumble through her chest. It wasn’t a deep, rumbly purr like Mama’s or even the smooth humming that Lance friend made but the sound of it made Mama sigh, a line of stiffness disappearing from her shoulders.

“Is Lance friend gonna be here when he comes back?” Kore tried at last, trying to pat Mama’s hair like she was used to.

“What do you mean?”

Kore frowned in frustration, not really sure how to articulate her thoughts. “Is Lance friend gonna disappear into his head like the others?”

Mama was silent for a moment, carefully lowering herself into the pillow nest and letting Kore sit primly in her lap. “Lance is strong, much stronger than Lotor is giving him credit for.” Mama said quietly, her voice low as it always was when telling Kore about things that the guards wouldn’t like, “We need to believe that he won’t break.”

“Do you think he’ll get out of here?” Kore asked, curling closer to her mother’s chest, “Will he take us with him?”

Mama’s heartbeat sped at her question and Mama sighed, letting one of her hands rest on Kore’s head. “I hope so.”

Vibrations rattled through the ship and Kore stilled into Mama’s suddenly sharp grip, crying out when the ship listed to the side abruptly. Shouts outside the door made Kore wince and cling to her mother, carefully keeping her mouth shut as her mother pressed a claw to her mouth.

“What was that?!”

“I don’t know. You don’t think it was Voltron, do you?”

“It hasn’t even been six hours! There’s no way they could find us so fast!”

Kore perked up at the mention of the Legendary Defender, looking to her mother hopefully. Her mother met her eyes for just a moment, eyes softening before she pressed Kore into the cushions and climbed out of the pillow nest. Kore stared after her in curiosity, realization blazing to life in her mind when she saw Mama move closer to the door.

Mama’s hearing wasn’t as sensitive as Kore’s.

The tramp of marching feet passed by the door and Mama jumped back, melting into the shadows of the tapestries. The doors opened and a pair of the heavily armored guards from the bridge marched in, a glowing Lance carried between them.

They shoved him roughly into the room, one of the guards giving him a sharp kick to the ribs before moving back towards the door. Lance curled away from the kick, a weak noise of pain leaving him before he laughed, the sound far darker than the laughs he had given Kore in the past. “Enjoy your new changes, paladin.” The guard spat, completely oblivious to Mama’s eyes blazing in the darkness behind him.

He only had a moment before Mama was upon him, her sharp claws easily bypassing the guard’s armor. Kore watched dispassionately as Mama ripped into him, pieces of his armor flying into the hall before the guard followed after. The guard’s partner looked at her in fear and awe, scrambling out into the hall after his injured friend, hissing as he went, “I told you not to!”

The door slammed behind them, the sharp noise making Kore flinch deeper into her pillow pile, her ears pressed back against her skull. The quiet vibration of Mama’s footsteps pulled her from her hiding place and she popped out to watch as Mama knelt at Lance’s side, the glow of his skin almost too bright for Kore’s eyes.

Curious, Kore clambered out of the pillow nest, picking her way across the soft floor to perch next to Mama. Lance laid on the floor quietly, the glowing lines on his skin pulsating softly with his heartbeat.  She crept closer, her golden eyes widening as she looked at her newest friend.

His once dull fingers now sported claws as sharp as Mama’s, the points as wickedly sharp as the needles Mama used to pierce his ears. Glowing lines marked his skin, the patterns pretty and flowing against the dark background. The pulsating colors shimmered with the jewelry that draped his form, the lights making Kore periodically flinch.

As he noticed her flinching, the bright blue of the lines darkened into a deep indigo and Kore sighed, letting her gaze return to his face. His sharp blue eyes looked at her sadly, their once round pupils now sharply pointed at each end like a cat, a luminescent scale at the corners of his eyes.

She let one hand come forward, letting it rest on the pointed tip of his ear, the shape of it far different from how he had appeared when she had seen him last. Kore felt her breath come as a sob, her chest tight as she grasped for her friend, unwilling to accept how different he appeared.

He let Mama sit him up and Kore curled her face into his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat pounding like a drum under his skin. “Kore? Why are you crying?”

“It isn’t fair!” Kore sniffled against his skin, disbelieving that he couldn’t understand her anguish, “You were beautiful the way you were! Why did Lotor have to change you?”

The lines under Kore’s head turned an even darker blue, the color soft and kind just like the boy who held her. “It’s okay, Kore. I’m still me.” Lance said consolingly, the colors on his skin not reflecting his words.

“It’s not okay.” Kore cried, looking up to see Mama giving her an equally as distraught look, “Why couldn’t they leave you alone? Why couldn’t they leave any of us alone?”

Real sobs burst from Kore’s chest and she crumpled against Lance, letting him enfold her in his arms. He rocked back and forth with her, the hum in his chest making her cry even harder.

“What happened out there?” Mama said softly, her hands soft upon Kore’s head, “There was an explosion and the ship moved. Did your friends come for you?”

The same dark laugh pulled itself from Lance’s chest, a brief flash of red from his tattoos making Kore squeeze her eyes shut tightly. “They didn’t keep a very good eye on me after they finished what Lotor wanted for the first stage. Untied me for a bit. Let me lay there.” Lance replied, arms tightening around Kore’s back, “So I stole a blaster from one of the guards and shot the druid. A few times. My aim’s a bit off after everything they did to my eyes.”

“That doesn’t explain why the ship listed to the side, little lion.” Mama said sternly, looking down at the human she had propped against her chest.

“I may have taken advantage of the chaos to run into the bridge and shoot some more things.” Lance said cockily, tattooed lines returning to their bright blue for a moment before returning to the darker indigo.

“Lotor will not take your rebellion well, Lance.” Mama cautioned, a tone of pride to her voice, “What possessed you to do it?”

“My friends are on their way.” Lance said with a soft smile, his markings turning a faint pink, “I felt Keith.”

Mama gave a hum of understanding and Kore pulled her head away from Lance’s chest, wiping at the fur around her eyes hastily. “Voltron is coming?”

“Yeah, little lady! Voltron is on its way.” Lance smirked, face softening as he let a hand rest in her hair, “We’ll get you out of here too. I promise. I won’t leave anyone to deal with Lotor.”

Kore smiled widely at her friend, heart faltering when he returned her smile. The teeth that sat in his mouth were far sharper than the ones she had seen before. All of a sudden, Kore felt guilty. She had pointed them out before. She had said something about them.

What if that was why Lotor had changed them? Was it her fault?

She reached for his face with a whimper and his smile faded as he let her reach for him, her eyes tearing up once again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Lance friend.” She blubbered, “Your teeth. I’m so sorry.”

“Kore.” He stated sternly, the tone of his voice making her look up at him in confusion, “None of what happened to me is your fault.”

“But I pointed out your teeth.”

“Yeah, but there’s no way Lotor would know anything about that, _pequeño.”_ Lance sighed, pressing Kore’s head into his shoulder with a care that made Kore tremble.

Despite his new claws and teeth and the lines that traced his skin, Lance was still kind and soft.

Mama lifted them as he let her curl against him, their weight easy in her arms. She left them in the comfort of the pillow nest, her footsteps padding away into the medical room. Kore let Lance take her weight, her face resting against the meat of his shoulder, one of the few parts of his chest where his bony frame didn’t press into her skull.

He rocked as best he could while they sat in the pillow nest, the press of his arms only making her breath shudder as she cried. “Shh, _pequeño._ ” He crooned, the syllables of his language rippling over Kore’s ears in a pleasant way.

He made a noise of realization in that back of his throat when Kore settled slightly at the sound and Kore looked up at him curiously. As she watched, he looked around the room surreptitiously before giving her a curious expression. He cleared his throat and Kore cocked her head to the side. Lance pressed one clawed finger to his lips and Kore nodded, still sniffling.

Leaning back against the pillow, he let her rest against his chest again before taking a deep breath.

“ _Duermete mi niña, duermete mi amor, duermete pedazo de mi corazón. Tu mamá te quiere, tu papá también, todos en la casa te queremos bién._ ” Lance began, his voice taking on a deep humming quality that Kore listened to in awe.

She looked up at him and he flushed, tattoos glowing a weird purple for a moment before he cleared his throat again, continuing with what Kore was coming to recognize as singing.

She’d never heard someone sing before.

“ _Esta niña linda que nació de dia quiere que la lleven a la dulcería. Esta niña linda que nació de noche quiere que la lleven a pasear en coche. Esta niña linda se quiere dormir y el picaro sueño no quiere venir. Si el sueño no quiere venir por acá a ver ratoncito, a ver donde está_.”

Kore let her head rest softly on Lance, the sound of his voice and the vibrations that his singing caused lulling her away from her previous upset. She listened to him go on, letting his arms curl around her and thought about what it would be like to hear him sing anywhere else.

For the first time in her short life, Kore fell asleep without fear and dreamed of a world without Lotor.

~~~~

 

Lotor stared at the unmoving druid before him with contempt, trying fruitlessly to tune out Haggar’s tirade.

“Listen to me, you fool.” Haggar snarled, a zap of quintessence meeting the floor at Lotor’s feet, “Your negligence has lost one of my druids.”

“Your druid could not handle a single human who had been weakened nearly to the point of catatonia.” Lotor smirked, “I believe I did you a favor, Haggar.”

“Thordis was one of the druids I trained personally.” Haggar said dangerously, stare attempting to pin him to his chair, “If you had listened to my counsel, I would not be down a druid and you would have secured your father’s favor.”

Lotor looked to his father’s witch dispassionately, a corner of his lip curling at her words. “You speak as if I care for my father’s approval, Haggar.”

“You should.” Haggar said haughtily, “If not for your father, the Galra Empire would not exist.”

“If not for my father’s continued survival, I would rule the Galra Empire.” Lotor said airily, smirking as Haggar hissed.

“Your disrespect has not gone unnoticed, Prince Lotor.” Haggar threatened, her fingers sparking as Lotor continued to grin.

“I am aware. Why do you think I was banished to the far corner of the Empire? I am father’s greatest disappointment, his willful half-breed son.” Lotor chuckled, pushing himself to his feet so that he towered over Haggar, letting more of his Galra features bleed through his Altean genes, “His approval no longer matters to me.”

“You could be more than you are, Lotor.” Haggar tried, her voice shifting to be more coaxing, a hesitant refusal to be cowed, “You could stand at his right hand, have your voice heard at council.”

Lotor turned his back on the witch, moving to the singed control panel in the bridge, anger filling him as he looked at the evidence of the paladin’s willfulness.

Should he just give the paladin over to Haggar? Give in to her demands and rid himself of the paladin all in one?

Steeling himself, he sneered, letting his hands splay over the ruined panel.

No. The paladin belonged to him.

“I want nothing more than my birthright, Haggar.” Lotor said evenly, reigning in his more feral features to look at the witch with disdain, “Give father my regards.”

“I am not done here, Lotor.” Haggar replied, her voice beginning to grate upon Lotor’s nerves, “Give me the paladin. He has done enough damage.”

“The paladin is my prize.” Lotor growled, “I will not tell you again.”

“We could use him!” Haggar shrieked, “He is mated to their half-breed and he is a holder of Blue quintessence!”

“All the more reason that he belongs to me.”

Anger rolled off the Altean witch and Lotor crossed his arms in front of his chest, meeting her glare boldly. He would not be cowed by his father’s pet, this twisted bastardization of the once proud race that Lotor shared his genetics with.

She did not command him as she did his father.

“You will regret this, Lotor.” Haggar vowed, eyes blazing with her fury.

With the speed inherent to his build, Lotor was in her face before she could recoil, a clawed hand fastening itself around her neck. “Your threats and posturing may work with the people beneath my father’s control, Haggar, but I do not fear you. You are a sad disgraceful remnant of your people and looking upon you disgusts me.” Lotor crooned, wrinkling his nose as his claws pierced her skin, the scent of her fetid blood turning his stomach, “Go on and tattle to my father.”

Satisfaction overpowered Lotor’s irritation as he watched the witch disappear, a weary sigh pulling itself from his chest as he let himself settle back in his chair.

Now that she wasn’t in his face, Lotor mulled over Haggar’s words carefully. It wasn’t that she was wrong. She was now down a druid because he had misjudged the Paladin’s spirit. Thordis’ loss would leave him weakened, the druid’s contribution to his force now gone. Just because Haggar was right didn’t mean that Lotor wanted to deal with her. Or give up and let her handle the paladin.

It seemed it would take a bit more than some physical pain to finally break his pretty prize.

And Lotor wanted to break him so badly.

His claws bit into his skin as he exhaled heavily, the thought of the Blue Paladin, broken and pliant and completely at his mercy almost more than he could stand.

How would the paladin break? Would it be his mind first, like so many of Lotor’s previous toys? Or would he break in his spirit, a resignation to his face making him pliable to Lotor’s whims?

Despite his hang ups, Lotor was no fool. He knew this paladin was dangerous, a soldier who had succeeded in defeating his father once before. It was intoxicating to have such a risk on board, to try and tame such a warrior. Lotor could sense the Blue quintessence that hummed under the paladin’s skin and he could certainly recognize how important that made him to Voltron.

It would be easier to simply kill the boy.

But he’d never had nearly as much fun by doing the easy thing. And Lotor was nothing if not a purveyor of fun and entertainment. The paladin’s struggles were beyond entertaining but they were quickly beginning to exhaust Lotor’s patience.

Something needed to be done.

The paladin needed to be punished.

The tromp of the guards caught his attention and Lotor looked up to see one of his newer recruits bloody and being half-heartedly supported by his partner. The unscathed guard leapt to attention upon spotting Lotor, expression troubled.

“Why is there a bleeding soldier on my deck?” Lotor asked evenly, propping his hand on his fist, a frown pulling at the corner of his mouth.

The injured guard grimaced at the question, his haphazardly attached armor failing to hide the deep gouges in his fur.

“We ran afoul of Maia, my Prince.” The guard said quietly, the words echoing across the bridge, “She witnessed me kicking the paladin.”

Lotor looked at the guard with care, frown creasing his face further. He sighed heavily, closing his eyes and letting his head rest against the back of his chair. “I did warn her.” Lotor tutted, his apparent lack of reaction unsettling the guards before him, “I shall have to reinforce the lesson, I suppose.”

The guards exchanged a look before saluting, an uncertain “Vrepit sa!” following him as left the bridge.

First the paladin and now Maia.

His prizes were becoming unruly, lashing out at his men and undermining his authority. It made Lotor angry. Their disobedience was making him look weak, a soft excuse for a Galra.

The familiar insults curled like claws against the inside of his chest, his anger dimming in its fury, sharpening instead to become a tool, a means to his ends.

Of course he wasn’t like the other Galra. He was better, smarter, a clever fighter. He was not wholly Galra or Altean. He wasn’t a brute like the types of warriors his father preferred. He was something more.

He would bring his prizes back beneath his heel. It would take none of Haggar’s poisonous magic or the beatings Emperor Zarkon preferred.

No. It would be the little things.

Lotor let that thought buoy him as he went, plans being raised and discarded as quickly as he could think them up, each missing an element that would cow those in his possession.

Too quickly, he came upon the ornate door that served as a cage for his prizes, its finery only rivaled by the riches within. A smile curled at his lips at the display of vanity, a moment of reflection detaining him.

It was probably for the best that he paused.

Voices sounded from the other side of the door and Lotor listened intently, his half-breed senses letting him hear the conversation easily.

“I have never heard someone speak the way you do before.” Maia said softly, her voice gentle in a way that Lotor had only heard when she was speaking with her kit.

“It’s the language that I speak at home.” The blue paladin replied, the cadence of his words holding the lovely lilt that Lotor liked, “I thought Kore would feel better if I sang to her. I didn’t want her to be upset. I don’t know how she could think that any of this was her fault.”

“Children often come to very strange conclusions about many things, little lion.” Maia sighed, “I’m just glad you returned to us in one piece. Many prizes before you have not been so fortunate.”

Lotor barely contained a snort at her words. She wasn’t wrong. He had been known to go overboard in the past, desire for working prizes overridden by the designs within his head.

“Don’t worry about me, Maia.” The paladin said confidently, his voice returning to the cocky brat that had spoken to him so cheekily upon their first meeting, “Keith and the others are on their way. We’ll be out of here in no time.”

A chuckle worked itself from Lotor’s throat at that, his optimism making Lotor smirk. There was so much hope in his heart. It would shatter him if they missed again. How long would he be able to keep up such faith?

What if Lotor could take advantage of that blind faith? The absolute belief in his friends? How badly would it break him if he pried upon those doubts?

A plan building in his mind, Lotor listened closer, sure that they would give him even more.

“I hope so.” Maia agreed, the soft pad of her footsteps beginning to echo from the room, “I have never heard a voice like yours before, Lance.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you were singing to Kore.” Maia amended, her hesitance interesting Lotor further, “Galra really have no ear for singing ourselves. Our vocal cords just don’t want to support the notes for it the same way that yours do. We sound a bit like a snarly mess. For most Galra, it sounds perfectly fine but in comparison, your voice is quite beautiful.”

“Oh, uh, thank you.” The paladin stuttered, an imagined flush painting his pretty skin in Lotor’s mind’s eye, “I used to sing to my little sister when she was upset. It helps me calm down too. Talking in general does that. I just hate the silence.”

Taking a step back in triumph, Lotor let a grin curl over his lips.

He had him now.

~~~~

Silence filled the trophy room, the only noise the soft, evenly punctuated breaths of the two bodies snuggled deeply into the pillow nest. Maia watched Kore and Lance sleep, a horrible sense of foreboding weighing upon her shoulders.

Something awful was about to happen and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

It was times like these that she missed her mate the most. He was wise and often could talk her down from her anxieties, a well of strength and support that had made her feel cherished.

His absence at the other end of their bond dragged at her heart and soul every moment of every day. She wanted nothing more than to follow him into the void, to return to him once more but she held herself back. Kore needed her. Kore needed her to take care of her and love her, to teach her as much as Maia could about her father and his people.

And Kore was all that Maia had left of Tirek. She would tear apart the universe if it meant keeping Kore from harm.

Maia stood vigil in front of the door, holding a sentinel-like position as she waited. It had been many years since she had felt a need to keep this vigilant and this time there was no beloved mate to talk her down and convince her to come to back to bed. No soul partner to convince her that it would be okay.

No husband to lose when she didn’t listen to her instincts.

Instead, she had two lives depending upon her. While Maia had no doubt that Lance could take care of himself, he was fragile right now. The bond between him and his Keith was too new and raw, it was more of a weakness than a strength at the moment. He had spent his day in the company of the druid, a druid he had killed the moment they had given him a sliver of leniency. Any more stress and he would snap.

If only for Kore’s sake, Maia desperately did not want to see that happen. The Red Paladin would not handle the loss well.

With every passing moment, she could smell the half-Galra paladin’s scent growing stronger, a sure sign that Lance spoke the truth. Voltron was on its way to rescue him.

But that didn’t alleviate the growing anxiety in Maia’s chest. The hours of the night passed without incident and Maia almost managed to talk herself out of the feeling of foreboding, that unfounded worry that something was about to happen that could not be taken back.

Her feet padded along the softly carpeted floors, claws flexing as she waited.

And waited.

The waiting lasted until Kore and the paladin began to stir and then shouts exploded into the life outside the door. The ornate portal opened and Maia recoiled as several guards burst into the room, their blasters out and pointed at the inhabitants of the room.

“Don’t move.” The lead guard hissed, golden eyes zeroing in on the scarily still form of the paladin still buried in the pillow nest, “The Prince has a present for you on the bridge, paladin.”

Lance sneered at the guard, baring his wickedly sharp teeth at the lead guard. “Tell Lotor that he can shove his present where the sun doesn’t shine.”

“I’m afraid that is the wrong answer.” The guard snarled, turning one of the blasters onto Maia, a hum from the weapon informing her of just how ready it was to fire.

Lance’s bravado dropped quickly but his bared teeth did not. “Get up.” The guard barked, “And bring the kit with you. Lotor wants all of you there.”

The quintessence tattoos that lined Lance’s skin blazed red with his fury and Kore whimpered, hiding her face in Lance’s shoulder as the human shakily made his way to his feet. The guards parted like the sea as he made his way forward, the motion of his body smooth like the waves as he walked, deep purple fabric flipping away from his legs, more swirling tattoos visible with every step.

The ice of a blaster muzzle bit into Maia’s shoulder, a guard looking at her almost nervously as he pressed her to follow Lance. Maia bit back her growl but complied, her much longer stride catching up with Lance effortlessly.

Lance passed her Kore as soon as she fell into step beside him, his hands fisted at his side. The guards ringed them in, an aura of tension and apprehension surrounding the group as they were escorted to the bridge. Maia let Kore hide her sensitive eyes in her fur, keeping a careful watch on the guards that surrounded them. Lance walked proudly beside her, his back straight and chin high, the changes Lotor had made and the jewelry draped over his person making him look like an exotic royal, a person of importance and power rather than the unwillingly shaped trophy of a mad Galra prince.

No matter what happened, Maia was proud of her strange human friend.

As soon as they rounded the corner into the bridge, Maia watched his careful composure break, face falling in an expression of devastation. “Keith?”

Maia looked into the room so quickly that she felt her neck crack under the strain, golden eyes going wide as she gazed upon what appeared to be another human.

Unlike Lance, he had almost milky white skin, the color marred with bruises and abrasions, the crimson that ran through their veins staining the side of one shoulder. He looked up at Lance’s voice and Maia frowned at the strange red lines that ran down the sides of his face, trying to determine where she had seen such markings.

Her musings were interrupted when Lance rocketed forward, pushing past their escort and sliding to his knees in front of the other human, hands hesitantly coming up to frame his mate’s face. “Keith? _Mi corazón,_ what are you doing here? Where are the others?”

The other human, Keith, blinked at Lance in confusion, violet eyes hazy before they sharpened, their fathomless depths filling with anger. “What did you do with Lance?”

“Keith, what are you talking about? I’m right here!” Lance said desperately, his hands shaking so bad that Maia could see it from where the guards kept her against the far wall, Kore trembling in her arms.

“You can’t fool me.” Keith spat, “You’re a monster. Lance is no monster.”

Lance faltered at the venomous words, his hands falling away from the other boy’s dark raven hair, “I’m sorry, Keith.” Lance hesitated, voice cracking, “But this is me now. Lotor finally got around to the reshaping thing.”

Keith glared for a moment longer before his eyes narrowed in disgust. “If that really is you, I might as well return to the ship.”

Flinching as if he had been struck, Lance recoiled, eyes wide in shock. “Keith, what…what are you talking about? We have to get out of here together, Voltron needs us.”

“Voltron needs me.” Keith sneered, climbing to his feet in a weirdly fluid motion, the movement setting off warning bells in the back of Maia’s mind, “You’re replaceable. Easily so. Blue was practically begging us to find someone else. She couldn’t believe that you would abandon her. Good thing you did. I don’t know what the team would have done without me.”

“I wouldn’t….I wouldn’t abandon Blue!” Lance choked out, looking up at Keith helplessly, “Why are you saying these things, Keith? I thought you liked me…”

“Like you? Maybe the old you.” Keith scoffed, letting one hand rest on the end of Lance’s chin, “Did you really expect me to want you after Lotor was done with you?”

Maia snarled at the words that seemed to be striking Lance, the guards at her side pressing the muzzles of their blasters against her sides. “Did you expect me to want you after I saw how cozy you got with the Galra here? You’re a traitor to Voltron, Lance.” Keith said angrily, pushing Lance away from him, “We have no use for you.”

A half-stifled sob pulled itself from Lance’s chest when he hit the floor, the jangle of his chains far too loud in the silence of the bridge. “I don’t believe you.” Lance whispered, looking up at Keith with an expression of adoration, his tattoos glowing a sappy purple, “This isn’t you. You don’t really feel this way.”

Keith glared down at Lance, the anger on his face making Maia freeze. “You don’t have to believe me.” Keith hissed, “But I don’t want you anymore. You’re a pathetic mess. I don’t want anything to do with Lotor’s sloppy seconds.”

The purple of Lance’s tattoos blazed a sharp crimson and he surged to his feet, clawed hands coming to fist in the front of the ruined flight suit the other human was clad in. “Too fucking bad, mullet.” Lance growled, the changes Lotor made to him making his anger something truly frightening to behold, “I’m only here because I love you too much to let this happen to you. Leave me over it. I don’t care. But you aren’t leaving here without me or the two other prizes. I promised that we would take them too.”

“You don’t make the rules, Lance.” Keith smirked, “The others have been happy with you gone. We don’t have to deal with your mouth. It’s been surprisingly quiet without you around. The princess and I have enjoyed the silence.”

Lance stared him down, eyes broken but mouth still curled in a growl. “I don’t know who you are but you aren’t Keith.”

“What gave me away?” The Keith-imposter grinned, curling harsh hands around Lance’s shackled wrists, “Who should I impersonate next?”

Maia watched in horror as the Keith imposter began to change, skin rapidly darkening into a color similar to Lance’s but with flowing white hair. “Should I be your princess?” She asked, the voice making Lance stiffen and try to step away.

“Is this what you want, Lance? Do you want to hear it from my mouth?” The princess sang, her magenta and cyan eyes harsh, “Do you want me to tell you how disappointed I am? How could you let Lotor disgrace my people like that? How could you let him make you a fake Altean? Do you want to hear me wonder how I’ll ever be able to look at you again?”

The tears that had threatened to overflow Lance’s eyes earlier made a reappearance and he dropped to his knees in front of the princess, wrists still clamped in her grip. “Speak to me, Lance. Is this not what you want?”

Their shape shifted again, this time coming to resemble a tall human male with a Galra tech arm and a shock of brilliantly white hair draping itself over his forehead. “What about the Champion? Do you want to see him look at you with hatred? To look at you and not see a friend and comrade?”

Lance shook in the harsh grip, cerulean eyes wide and glassy as he looked up at the shape of one of his friends. “Please, stop.”

“But I haven’t made it through all of them yet.” The Champion look-alike said sternly, shape beginning to change once more, a far tinier human this time around.

Even on his knees, Lance was almost as tall as this human, their fluffy brown hair almost concealing a pair of sharp hazel eyes. “We’re scared of you, Lance.” The human said softly, letting their eyes go wide, “How can we ever feel safe around you? You’re a monster. Your claws hurt. Your teeth are too sharp. You don’t look like us anymore.”

Maia tried once more to push her way through the guards but Kore yelped in her arms, the rough barrel of a blaster pressing into her ribs, the noise making Maia freeze, barely breathing in an attempt to spare Kore any further pain. Lance looked back at them briefly, the emotional agony in his eyes making Maia’s heart fracture.

A rough pull on his wrists brought Lance’s attention back to the shape-changer in front of him, their form shifting once more. The last shape made Lance choke out a sob once more, desperately squeezing his eyes shut so that he couldn’t see the person in front of him.

He was a built like a tank, far larger than most humans Maia had seen, with dark hair and gentle brown eyes. His huge hands dwarfed Lance’s slender wrists and Lance trembled in his hold, shaking his head desperately. “Oh, this one is important, isn’t he, Lance? What do you want to hear from him?” The human said quietly, even his voice a gentle noise, “Ah, I got it. Who could ever be friends with such a monster? Go away. Don’t ever come back. We don’t want to see you again.”

Rough sobs pulled themselves from Lance’s chest and the large human hummed, the sound completely at odds with the venomous words that had dripped from his lips. “That’s a good pet.” The human crooned, his shape changing once more.

He slimmed down and stretched, feathery white hair coming down to tickle at the wrists he held captive in his hands. Maia watched in horror as Lotor shifted back to his original shape, looking down at Lance with an expression of rapturous glee.

“I knew you would be glorious when you broke, little Lance.” Lotor crowed, pulling on his grip to bring Lance up to his eyes, “And what a fitting name you have. You were so sharp for so long.”

Lance hung in his grip miserably, unable to summon up his earlier fire in the light of the venom that had dripped from the lips of his friends. Maia held Kore to her chest, desperate to go comfort the child that Lotor held in his grasp. Her movement grabbed Lotor’s attention and those yellow eyes locked on her, turning Lance in his arms so that they could both look at her.

“I warned you, Maia.” Lotor purred, pressing the back of his hand to Lance’s jaw, “I told you that you couldn’t protect him.”

Lance looked at her helplessly, the tattoos in his skin pulsing slowly, a blue so deep that they looked black. “Look at him, Maia.” Lotor said softly, “Look at what you did. If you hadn’t tried so hard to protect him, maybe he could have avoided this. If you hadn’t inspired his rebellion, he’d still have his fire. I guess you failed another one.”

Maia felt Lotor’s words like physical blows and she recoiled from them, curling her arms so tightly around the kit in her arms that Kore let out a small noise of pain. Lotor’s yellow eyes blazed at her, his triumph a weight on her shoulders. “Have you learned your lesson, Maia?”

Spirit cowed, Maia bowed her head, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. “Yes, my Prince.”

~~~~

Lance wanted nothing more than to stand up to Lotor as he listened to him harangue Maia but his body refused to listen to him. His mind and body were at war with one another, the venomous words he had just heard from the lips of his friends tearing him down in a way that physical pain could never hope to accomplish.

He valued his bonds with his friends so deeply, they were his second family. He would do anything for his family. He had done some pretty crazy things in the name of family and love.

It was what landed him in this situation to begin with.

But seeing their faces look at him like that and hearing their voices give life to the doubts he had been hiding destroyed him. How was he supposed to keep his faith when all he could think of was the look of disgust on Keith’s face? The biting words that Lance had been fearing from the instant they had started changing his body.

He kept seeing the dismay in Allura’s face, her prim voice shaking as she asked how she could stand to look at him. The hatred in Shiro’s eyes made his heart falter and as desperately as he tried, it tore at him.

Nothing could have prepared him for the fear in Pidge’s eyes, her normally strong voice small. It was an image that ripped at the brotherly feelings he felt for her. How could he act like a big brother to Pidge if she was afraid of him?

And Hunk. _Dios mio_. Hunk.

He would never be able to forget Hunk’s words.

Lance squeezed his eyes shut in shame, willing the tight press of tears away. How pitiful. He made it through two whole days before Lotor broke him.

And it wasn’t even the torture tactics they had taught them about in the Garrison.

No, Lance was taken down by his friends.

How was he going to face them?

A prickle of claws at the base of his throat brought him out of his self-deprecating spiral and he looked up at his captor dully, Lotor’s glee only deepening the shame that Lance felt.

The lock mechanism on his collar clicked open and the gem-studded circle of metal clanged against the floor, Lance’s eyes widening as its weight disappeared. Lotor chuckled at his surprise, claws dancing along the newly uncovered skin in a perverted form of a caress.

“I believe you were brought here with the promise of a present.” Lotor said sweetly, motioning to the guard who stood behind him, eyes carefully focused on the far wall.

Lotor turned from him and opened the small box that the guard presented, a new circle of metal laying within its dark confines. Lance looked between Lotor and the box warily but couldn’t bring himself to smart off, the memory of his friends’ words too fresh in his mind.

As Lotor lifted the circle, a sudden click echoed through the bridge and they all looked up in surprise as the view screen phased into life, one corner of it flickering dangerously from the damage Lance had previously done to the control panels.

Pidge’s face filled one half of the screen, the bags that had been under her eyes gone and a light of fury in her hazel gaze. “Gotcha, you white haired bastard.”

Lotor turned to the screen, displeasure telegraphing itself across his face briefly before it smoothed into a mask of amusement. “Hello again, Green Paladin.” He said smoothly, “I must admit, I did not expect you to find the encryption on this channel. You humans continue to surprise me.”

“Save it, Lotor.” Pidge sneered, “We’re on your tail.”

“That is rather unfortunate.” Lotor sighed, looking back to Lance with an expression so full of murderous rage that Lance was suddenly very scared for everyone on the bridge.

With deft fingers, the silver circle that was in Lotor’s hands was opened and Lance had a moment to skitter backwards before Lotor clamped it around his throat. This collar was far less comfortable than its predecessor and a strange vibration filled it, making Lance’s head ache.

“Come back onto the screen, you coward.” Pidge threatened, “We want to see Lance.”

“Pidge, return to your station.” Allura’s voice commanded, memories making Lance tremble.

Lotor gave a quick glance between Lance and the screen, a wicked light coming to fill his yellow eyes. A click caught Lance’s attention and he looked down to see another length of chain connected to the collar around his neck, the other end clutched in Lotor’s hands.

“You heard them, Lance.” Lotor crooned, “They want to see you.”

Lance attempted to backpedal, not ready to face the reality that Lotor had made him begin to truly fear. What if they reacted just as Lotor had made him believe?

He wouldn’t be able to stand it.

“Come now, Blue.” Lotor chuckled, “Don’t you want to see your friends? Your princess? Your lover?”

Panic filled Lance’s chest and he pulled against the hold Lotor had on him, looking at the screen with fear. Lotor yanked him forward as he sat in that damn chair, the chain at his throat nearly making Lance fall into Lotor’s lap.

He could hear gasps from the screen behind him and his shoulders curled in, an aborted effort to make himself appear smaller. Lotor met his eyes with glee, pointed fangs bared in the sharpest smile Lance had ever seen. “You should see their faces, little lion.” Lotor taunted, Maia’s nickname fouled in his mouth, “I don’t know if I’ve ever witnessed such horror.”

Lance curled further into himself, his head only held up by the chain around his throat. “You tried so hard.” Lotor chuckled, “Many others broke much, much faster than you did. Funny how simple it was in the end though. I told you that your protectiveness would come back to haunt you.”

Lotor looked past his shoulder with his triumphant smile and Lance resisted the urge to close his eyes.

He had to do this. He had to let them know that he was okay.

Steeling himself, he got his legs to cooperate and stood, taking just a moment to loom over Lotor, a brief flicker of his previous rage returning with Red’s fiery purr. Lotor gave him an inscrutable look, sickly eyes dragging themselves over his skin, a heat in his gaze that made Lance shudder. The chain trailed through Lotor’s fingers, giving Lance slack to stand and turn.

He kept his eyes firmly to the side, unwilling to look at their faces as he turned to them, the sound of their gasps enough to pull the shame over him once more.

There should have been something he could have done to keep Lotor from doing this to him. He should have been stronger.

A soft sob made him shake and he tried to stand tall but the noises from the other side of the screen made him want to hide.

Movement blurred the screen in front of him and Lance flinched when he could feel Keith’s fire across their bond once more.

He was on the bridge in the Castle again.

“Lance.”

His name pulled at his defenses and he trembled, the chains on his skin jangling gently.

“Lance, please. Look at me.”

Keith coaxed him across the bond, feelings carefully kept in check as he pleaded, the longing in his voice what finally did Lance in.

Lance looked up and met Keith’s eyes, the feelings that Keith had been hiding blazing into life across their bond. As Lance watched, those same feelings flashed across Keith’s face.

Anger. Devastation.

Then finally a relief so visceral that Lance could feel it like a slap in the face.

“You’re alive.” Keith breathed, a tension leaving his shoulders so abruptly that Shiro had to come and support him, “When I felt you earlier, I thought…”

“I’m okay.” Lance said hoarsely, the lines across his body turning the pretty purple color they usually did when he thought of Keith, “I miss you so much. _Te amo._ ”

Keith smiled at him wearily, clinging to Shiro’s arm. “ _Te amo_ _también_.”

Lance’s breath stilled in his chest, eyes widening at Keith’s smooth sentence. “Really?”

“Yes, really, you idiot.” Keith barked, the relief in his face and through the bond flooring Lance.

In his distraction, Lance forgot about the Galra Prince behind him, his broken spirit soaring at Keith’s confession.

They were on their way and Keith _loved_ him.

The colors in his skin turned a pretty pink and Lance stared through the screen at his mate, the bond between them growing stronger.

He should have known better than to ignore Lotor.

The chain at his throat pulled harshly and Lance choked, stumbling backwards into Lotor’s lap, freezing as Lotor’s hands splayed over his skin possessively.

Keith’s face immediately went livid, a strange gold flashing across his eyes. “That’s enough of that, I think.” Lotor hissed in Lance’s ear, their new shape making it far easier for Lance to hear Lotor’s low voice.

Ice traveled down Lance’s spine as Lotor stroked over his skin, patting him like one would a favorite pet. “Do you like what I’ve done, Red Paladin?” Lotor said sweetly, his breath hitting the back of Lance’s ears and making him cringe.

“Get your hands off of him.” Keith snarled, hands curling around the arm that Shiro now used to hold him back.

Lance watched in horror as purple scrolled across Keith’s face, a flash of something else beneath his skin. “Who is going to make me? You?” Lotor taunted, pressing a kiss to the tip of one of Lance’s ears, “What can you do? He’s mine.”

Holding himself perfectly still, Lance barely dared to breathe, the sharpness of Lotor’s claws at his ribs making him fearful. There was no protection from Lotor’s claws if the Prince chose to end him. It wouldn’t take very much at this point.

“Lance doesn’t belong to anyone.” Keith spat, Shiro struggling to keep him from flying at the screen, “When we get there, I am going to tear you to pieces.”

“When you get here?” Lotor chuckled, “Your confidence is enviable, _Keith.”_

The anger from Keith overpowered their bond and Lance closed his eyes under the onslaught, colors in his skin turning red from the deluge of sheer fury.

“Well, if the game is going to be up so soon, perhaps I can give you one more hint. In the spirit of fairness, of course.” Lotor purred, one of his hands coming up to tap at the collar around Lance’s throat, the vibrations changing in pattern.

Lance schooled himself, looking at his angry lover first before meeting the eyes of everyone on the bridge. Pidge and Hunk nodded at him, intent on his words, hands already poised over their command panels, ready to follow him.

Allura had a hard time bringing herself to return Lance’s stare, a fact that sent a sharp spike of shame and pain through him. When she finally met his eyes, tears glimmered in her gaze. “I’m so sorry.” She mouthed at him, the words confusing Lance more than anything else.

He spotted Coran in the background, the devastation on the older man’s face almost more that Lance could bear. The mechanic nodded at him as well before he ducked out of screen, his departure cutting at Lance.

Shiro gave him a sharp bird-like nod, hands full with the personification of wildfire that was Keith. This whole time, Keith had continued to snarl and snap threats at Lotor, an element of confusion coming across the bond to Lance.

It was almost as if he couldn’t understand why such murderous fury was filling him at Lotor’s hands upon Lance. In that moment, Lance felt a glimmer of realization and he cast a look to where Maia was watching with wide eyes.

This was another one of the mate things she had been telling him about. One of the things that would make Keith frantic to get back to him.

Lotor knew exactly what he was doing.

Wrenching himself from Lotor’s grip, Lance slid to the floor opening his mouth to give his friends the hint he thought up. They could track the video feed. If Pidge had been able to hack the encryption on the channel enough to start a video chat, she could easily track the video and find him in no time at all!

Voltron could be here before Lotor could prepare himself.

He could go home soon!

He could see Keith again…and smooch the angry little wrinkle between his eyebrows right off his face.

” _Seguir...”_ Lance began, voice failing after the first word.

He tried again but the vibrations against his throat only intensified, his vocal cords refusing to produce sound. He pulled at the collar around his throat, eyes wide as he looked to his friends.

He couldn’t speak.

“Was that it, little Blue?” Lotor guffawed, his laughter filling the bridge, “After the lovely hints you gave them before this is a little depressing.”

“Lance, why aren’t you saying anything?” Pidge said in a voice that made Lance begin to panic.

He opened his mouth, staring at Pidge with frightened eyes. Nothing continued to come out and he moved his mouth more frantically, making the shape of the words but hearing nothing.

He could feel Keith’s realization through the bond, the Red Paladin renewing his fierce struggles against their leader. “What did you do to him?!”

“I just engaged the features of the present that I called him to the bridge to give him.” Lotor sighed, prodding Lance roughly with his foot, “Well, one of the presents.”

“Presents?” Allura said at last, her voice tight.

“He missed you so much.” Lotor chuckled, “And you know as well as I do how versatile the shape-shifting abilities of Alteans are, princess. I only showed him what he wanted to see. But maybe I misjudged it a bit. Do you typically shatter when your friends express disgust at a new form you’ve taken?”

Keith stilled in Shiro’s arms, his emotions over the bond making tears overflow Lance’s eyes. He met Keith’s violet gaze desperately, clawed hands inadvertently tearing at the skin of his throat around the new collar. “Lance. Lance, don’t believe anything he told you!” Keith called, “We love you. We wouldn’t do any of the things that he did.”

“Do you believe him, little Lance?” Lotor taunted, “You were so sure that I was your Keith when you came on the bridge. It must have shattered your heart to hear how much he didn’t want you.”

Lance covered his ears from Lotor’s words, the vibrations in his throat making his head ache. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t listen to Lotor any longer. He could feel Keith, their bond only making his soul ache in time with his head.

Why couldn’t he get this stupid collar off? It wasn’t nearly as thick as the one he was wearing earlier and he needed it off.

He needed it off right now.

Rough hands pulled his hands off his ears and Lance froze as Lotor’s breath met the back of his ear once more. “Say goodbye to your friends, paladin.” Lotor said softly, “Without your hint, I don’t think they’ll be finding us quite as quickly as you had hoped. And when they do find us, we’ll be ready for them. Perhaps, I’ll make a special call to the main fleet. Be a good son for once and lead Voltron right to my father.”

Lance met Keith’s eyes once more before the view screen clicked off, Lotor’s hands around his wrists keeping him from pulling at the collar around his neck any more than he had.

“Do you like it?” Lotor sang, giving a tug at the end of the chain with his pinky as he held Lance effortlessly, “I had it made just for you after all. You have such a love of talking and singing.”

Lance felt a lead weight settle in his chest at Lotor’s words, his previous conversation with Maia coming to mind.

“Yes, I heard it.” Lotor agreed, Lance’s reaction more than enough for the Prince to guess Lance’s thoughts, “And I can assure you that silence is all that is going to greet you, unless I grant it.”

Lance slumped in Lotor’s grip, defeat warring at him.

“That’s a good pet. I guess that only one questions remains, Lance.”

“Won’t you sing for me, little songbird?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, I'm....sorry?  
> This hurt me to write just as much as if probably hurt you to read...  
> Tears were shed. I may have had a little bit of a realization that I'm a bad person.
> 
> Anyway! Next chapter, we're gonna be mostly back with the Voltron crew, point of view stuff will most likely jump between the two ships.  
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Also, for those of you interested, I posted the drawing I did of Lance's new form. The picture quality really sucks but I have sadly not jumped on the digital bandwagon. I only draw in my good old sketchbook lol.  
> [ Here you go! ](http://faequeen40.tumblr.com/post/159261447532/lance-from-chapter-4-of-songbird-this-was-more-a)
> 
> All art of this chapter is courtesy of a commission of the lovely suitboxers! Here!


	5. A Plan is in Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Voltron plans, Lotor makes some decisions and there are more powers at work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I utterly fail at the outline thing and this one once again got away from me. This is another chapter that will have to be split in two so that you guys don't get one monstrous chapter.  
> Also, fun fact, this fic is over 100 pages in a Word document.

Coran let his hands curl around the controls of the ship tightly, the silence in the bridge almost overwhelming after Lotor had cut the communications.

A weight sat heavily in his heart, a deep sorrow pulling him down as he thought over what he had just witnessed. Lotor had truly changed Lance.

He was the spitting image of an Altean.

And it killed Coran. Lance had always been there for him as sympathetic ear or an eager helping hand, even if his help had mostly consisted of complaining loudly as he set about doing the chores that Coran had set upon him. Now that dear, precious boy was suffering, suffering at the hands of someone who knew nothing of morality or mercy.

A mad prince who made him look like a dead race for aesthetic purposes.

Coran felt the pain in his chest deepen as he looked at his princess, the shock and dismay in her eyes yet to dissipate. This would strike her just as hard. They missed their people so much, but this, this was beyond a simple jab.

Lotor intended this to alienate Lance, to mark him as other and distance him from the other paladins and the princess. As Coran gazed upon Allura, he could see it working.

When Lance had dominated the screen, Allura could scarcely look at him. To be fair, Coran had had his fair share of troubles with looking at the Blue Paladin. He looked so much like a young Altean man, just barely coming into his own that it had struck Coran deeply.

Their people were gone. And there was nothing about that he could change. Looking at Lance now only drove that point home, a fact Lotor capitalized upon, drawing attention to the sharp points of Lance’s ears and the scales on his face when he had been taunting Keith.

Taunting all of them really.

The castle had been dreary and empty without the energy of the Blue Paladin to fill it. None of them had been able to bring themselves to do anything other than search desperately for him since the wormhole incident and it had begun to show.

Typically clean surfaces were showing the dust of disuse and all of the paladins were tense and on edge. Even the Lions were antsy, pacing their hangars in a way that made the whole Castle shake. Blue was the worst about it, lashing out at her hangar every time something else happened to Lance.

They had to close her hangar off to keep her from launching into the void of space aimlessly, a desperation to find her paladin making her difficult to contain.

Coran looked over the children on the bridge, his age weighing heavily on his shoulders. They were all so young, far too young to be dealing with the horrors that were being pressed upon them. Hunk and Pidge stared blankly at the dark view screen that still held its place on the grand window, silent tears leaking from Hunk’s expressive eyes.

Allura pressed her hand to her mouth, her own eyes threatening to overflow, shoulders slumped out of her typical perfect posture. The mice cuddled up on her shoulders, pressing their tiny bodies into her hair, her grief mirrored in their small faces.

But out of all of them, it was Keith and Shiro’s reactions that struck Coran the hardest. Keith had gone completely silent in Shiro’s arms, staring at the screen with disbelieving eyes while Shiro fought to keep an even face, the pain in his gaze betraying his efforts.

The silence was draining and Coran flexed his hands against the controls, unwilling to be the one to break the tension. A low whine started out over the bridge and Coran looked for its source, eyes finally falling on the Red Paladin, a deep sense of foreboding dwelling in his gut.

Shiro let out a sudden noise of pain when claws sprang from the tips of Keith’s fingers, a frantic expression coming to the Red Paladin’s face. The whine deepened in pitch, the soft sound becoming a snarl so angry and fierce that it made the hair raise on the back of Coran’s neck.

It was a feeling clearly shared by the other paladins and Coran let go of the controls in front of him, a very, very old memory tickling at the back of his mind. It had been one of his first missions, an excursion to one of the planets on the edge of the solar system, an unexplored paradise that he had been tasked with mapping.

The mission was one of few that had called for the assistance of Galra scouts, a pair accompanying him and a few Altean pilots in the mapping. They had been very cordial, professional, and to the point, always returning from their scouting trips with a wealth of information and interesting stories of the local flora and fauna.

Coran had respected them deeply and come to depend on their promptness. Everything had been going swimmingly.

That is, until one of them didn’t come back one night. She had only been missing for a day when they discovered that the planet they had come to hadn’t been quite as uninhabited as they thought. The locals had captured the Galra scout and subjected her to torture in order to determine where she came from and for information about the rest of the group.

By the time they had reached her, she was in bad shape. Coran couldn’t understand how she had held out so long. When they reached her, the other Galra scout had gone ballistic, tearing apart the settlement that had held the injured Galra with her bare hands.

He had discovered later that they were a mated pair, a sacred bond within Galra society. Mated scouts were considered best, as they could frequently find each other even when the most experienced trackers failed.

It had been the Galra huntress who had led the group to her injured mate, a franticness about her that Coran could finally see reflected in Keith, skin rapidly purpling as his Galra genes rose to the surface much faster than Coran had originally calculated.

Keith had inadvertently created a mate bond with Lance.

“Shiro.” Coran said softly, doing his best to keep his voice level, “You need to let go of Keith.”

“If I let him go, he’s going to hurt himself.” Shiro protested, the worry in his voice betraying his face, “I’m not going to let him hurt himself.”

“At this point, he’s far more likely to hurt you than himself.” Coran counseled, turning his attention to Keith instead, “Keith, my boy, you need to calm down.”

“How am I supposed to calm down when Lance is out there?” Keith roared, eyes glowing an unholy gold as he turned his attention to Coran, “I need to get to him. I need to get to him RIGHT NOW!”

With a sharp swing of his elbow, Keith broke the hold Shiro had on him, feet nearly flying as he ran for the door. In a move that would have made the former Captain of the Guard exceptionally proud, Allura intercepted him, sweeping his feet out from under him and flipping him to his stomach, pinning him with a strong hand at the center of his back.

“Keith, we don’t know where he is.” Allura said sternly, the situation making her push aside the devastation that was so clear in her face earlier, “We can’t do anything until we find Lotor’s ship. I am not any happier about this situation than you are but you need to think rationally.”

Keith bucked against her hold violently, the rage in his movements almost making Allura recoil. Hunk spoke up at last, his voice tight with his tears. “If you go for him now, Keith, it’s only going to hurt him more.”

The Yellow Paladin’s words seemed to hit Keith with all the force of a lead brick, his struggles stilling but a low whine still pulling itself from his throat. “What’s happening to me?” He said weakly, hiding his face in the bridge’s floor, shoulders pulling in like he was ashamed of himself.

Purple continued to scroll over Keith’s skin and Coran spared a look to Shiro, alarm flashing through his mind as he registered the blank look that so often accompanied Shiro’s mental breaks, the attacks that pulled him back into the memories of his year in the gladiatorial ring and his treatment at the hands of the Galra.

This team was falling apart.

“Coran?” Allura called, her voice uncertain and Coran’s heart broke when he turned to her.

She had been so strong though everything that had happened, taking in these aliens and becoming a part of their team. They had gone through hell together and she had handled it with more grace than many of her predecessors could claim, but this, this situation had made her hesitant. They had lost one of their own to a man who she had history with, a history fraught with bad memories and strife.

Lotor had not changed in the years since he terrorized the castle, a smug sense of superiority present in him long before Zarkon betrayed the universe.

“Coran, please, if you know what’s going on, tell us.” Allura pleaded, her fragile composure threatening to crumble right there on the bridge.

“I’m not sure of the specifics,” Coran began with a sigh, walking up so that he could help a shaky Keith to his feet, “But due to your genetics, you have created a bond between yourself and Lance. It was a bond quite sacred to the Galra before the war. Those bonded were connected on a deep level, both in body and mind. They could even find each other across vast distances but I don’t know much more than that, I’m afraid.”

Coran suppressed a bit of guilt at his bending of the truth but now wasn’t the time to get into the specifics of the bond, especially in front of everyone.

That would be a very personal and frankly embarrassing conversation for everyone involved.

“Is there a way we can use it to find Lance?” Pidge said at last, her voice rough in a way that made Coran wince.

Number Five was in bad shape too.

Coran turned his attention to Keith, noticing the way the Red Paladin seemed almost lost, not really registering the words around him, a frustrated confusion visible on his face. “What can you feel of Lance now, Keith?”

“He’s scared.” Keith shuddered, almost curling away from the arm that Coran was supporting him with, “He’s so fucking scared. And hurting. Whatever that collar does, it hurts. He wants us. He wants to go home. Coran, I…I don’t know where he is. I don’t have a direction and the connection keeps cutting out on me. Every time it cuts out, it feels like he’s dead.”

“He isn’t dead.” Hunk said harshly, his outburst startling everyone into silence, “Lance isn’t dead. We just saw him. We just saw what that bastard did to him.”

Watching in a horribly fascinated silence, Coran saw as the normally gentle giant that was the Yellow Paladin grew angrier than he had ever seen him. His massive hands curled into harsh fists, only a sliver of control keeping him in the seat of his chair. “We heard that Lotor made Lance think that we hated him. Lotor even _took his voice away._ ” Hunk snarled, Keith looking at him askance, “Lance is my best friend in the world. I’ve known him for as long as I can remember and I am so sick of not being able to help him. So Keith, sit your ass down, take a deep breath and help us figure out how we’re going to find him. Because I need to hug my best friend and I’m not going to stop until he gets the best damn hug in the universe.”

Everyone stared at the Yellow Paladin, a stunned quiet falling over the bridge, even Keith’s unintentional whine fading away into silence. It dragged for a moment before Hunk flushed, turning his eyes to the side.

At last, Pidge broke the silence, her hazel eyes wide from where she stared at her friend. “Holy shit, Hunk.”

A weary sigh greeted Pidge’s expletive and the tiny paladin whipped around to waggle her finger at Shiro. “Don’t you start with the language thing, Shiro.” She threatened, “Hunk literally just swore three times more than I did.”

The argument was a familiar one and Coran let their words wash over him, releasing a tension he had been unaware of. Even if the banter was a front, a fragile bandaid over the festering wound that was Lance’s situation, it was what they needed right now.

It was what Lance would have done.

When Shiro had disappeared, it had been Lance who held the team together. Coran felt a small smile come to his face at the memory of the Blue Paladin’s antics. No one was truly alone under Lance’s watchful eye, he was always ready with a mostly terrible joke or pun to deflate the tension, his attitude and half-secretive mothering helping the team to focus, to push past the emotions that threatened to drown them before they could recover their leader.

They had all come to depend on Lance, each of them in different ways. He was an open to ear to Coran and a gentle nuisance to Allura, keeping her from dwelling on things she couldn’t change. He distracted Pidge into taking breaks, carrying her to bed and making sure she ate when she became engrossed in a project. He danced around Hunk, picking and poking if it appeared the Yellow Paladin was getting lost in his worries.

As for Keith, well it was no wonder they’d fallen so hard for each other. With Shiro’s disappearance, Lance had abandoned their half-hearted rivalry, even if he had protested Keith’s leadership at first. He contained the fiery Red Paladin, a cool head to Keith’s impulsivity. They became equals, co-leaders in a sense. Many nights had found them huddled on the bridge, discussing plans in hushed voices, tones fond as they stood much closer that necessity required.

Coran returned his attention to the present, to the trembling Red Paladin supported in his arms. Ever since he’d emerged from the pod- far too early to have healed to Coran’s liking- Keith had been unsteady, physically and emotionally.

The nascent connection between the Red and Blue Paladins had been affecting Keith greatly. Yesterday, when the link had jumped to a new milestone, Keith had been in the midst of a training sequence, a habit he had not been able to kick, even in the wake of Lance’s absence.

When Coran had checked the training deck later, he had been stunned to see the gladiator torn to pieces, shrapnel littering the floor and embedded in the walls. Of course, Keith was nowhere to be found.

It had unsettled Coran deeply.

However, as he stared at the shaky Paladin and recalled the changes to Lance’s form, he could begin to understand just what made Keith snap in the training deck, just what he was experiencing from Lance’s side of the bond during that first connection.

Allura cleared her throat, gently interrupting the playful back and forth between Pidge and Shiro, their unconscious imitation of the play fighting Lance often initiated dying off at her voice.

“Hunk is right.” Allura said softly, the slight tremble to her voice going unheard by everyone but Coran, “We need to put our heads together to find a plan to retrieve Lance.”

“Do we even know where to start?” Pidge said in frustration, perching on the arm of her chair to better see the other paladins.

“We have the two hints Lance managed to give us before, and the encryption of the channel for Lotor’s fleet.” Shiro summarized, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“So we know he’s on a different ship from the one that picked him up and that Red can be followed.” Hunk hummed, rubbing at his chin in thought, “Only problem is that we weren’t able to pick up Red’s signal for very long. There’s a good chance that she’s still pretty banged up from the fight.”

Keith nodded, face looking paler than normal after all the purple that had been streaking it. “I still can’t really feel Red. My connection to her is almost non-existent right now.” He said hoarsely, the effort to stay even partially rational taxing him, “Before Lance was cut off, he was going to tell us to follow something.”

Pidge made a noise of consideration in her throat, the rest of the paladins falling silent as they thought. “We grew rather dependent on Lance, did we not?” Allura sighed heavily, a weariness to her features as she moved to sit on her podium.

“What do you mean?” Shiro asked in confusion, looking to Coran with a baffled expression.

“When you were gone, Lance…well, he kinda became the plan guy.” Hunk explained, looking to the Black Paladin earnestly, “Keith could tend to be a bit too hot-headed but Lance was able to come up with clever strategies. He really saved our butts a few times. We all just came to depend on the stuff he’d plan out. All of his stuff focused on little details, just like the hints he’s been giving us.”

The pride in Hunk’s voice was unmistakable, an echo of the feeling springing to life in Coran as well.

The Blue Paladin had come so far.

Shiro looked impressed at Hunk’s explanation before the emotion faded, replaced by a rush of guilt and sadness that made Coran ache to comfort him. It wasn’t his fault he’d disappeared.

Keith stirred again under Coran’s arm, a familiar fire filling his face. “Did any of us ever thank him for that?”

Uncomfortable quiet filled the bridge in lieu of answer to Keith’s question.

Allura opened her mouth to respond before shame abruptly flooded her features and she dropped her head into her hands.

Coran looked at her askance, unsure of what to make of her reaction. He knew he had made his appreciation of Lance clear, expressing his thanks every time Lance had made time for the old mechanic, the joy in the Blue Paladin’s face at the simple words buoying Coran’s spirits like nothing else.

Surely the others had thanked Lance, had noticed the sheer volume of his contribution to the team?

As Coran looked upon the guilty faces on the bridge, he realized they had not. Abruptly offended on Lance’s behalf, he set a startled Keith on the floor beside Allura and regarded the assembled paladins with disappointment.

“None of you thanked him?” Coran demanded, mustache twitching indignantly as he spoke.

“We should have.” Hunk said quietly, his admission mirrored in the others.

Keith curled himself into a ball, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Maybe that’s why he gave himself up for me.” He mumbled into his legs, misery clear in the line of his shoulders, “He didn’t think he was as important. How could he not realize how much more we need him than me?”

“Keith…” Shiro tried, pain in his voice.

“No!” Keith spat, launching himself to his feet, “We need Lance! And we’ve been letting him think that he wasn’t important, that somehow my life was more important than his!”

Coran blinked in surprise as a blur of brown and green tackled Keith to the ground, tiny Number Five sitting atop the downed Red Paladin.

“Stop it!” She cried, fierce tears threatening to stream down her face, “Yeah, we didn’t take care of Lance. We didn’t let him know how important he is to us. But he didn’t sacrifice himself over some stupid inferiority complex. He saved your life because he _loves_ you, you dense fuck! How could you forget that? Didn’t you see his face when you said it back?!”

Keith looked up at the Green Paladin in shock, unable to react when she socked him in the jaw, skull thunking dully against the metal of the floor. Before she could hit him again, Coran grabbed under her arms, hoisting her in the air like an unruly kitten.

“If you stopped having a damn pity party for like five minutes, I could have told you that I had an idea!” Pidge hissed, aborted sniffles interrupting her words and completely throwing off the threatening vibe she was going for.

Hunk was the first to process her words, hope shining in his face as Coran put her back down. “What is it?” He said eagerly, hands curling over his armrest.

The mood in the bridge changed abruptly as Coran watched, a bit of confusion filling him as everyone moved to crowd Pidge’s station.

He was just beginning to reprimand them, wasn’t he?

Coran stared at the group, even Keith joining in after he pulled himself up off the floor, wincing incredulously as he touched the rapidly darkening bruise on his jawbone.

The mechanic gave himself another moment to blink at the abrupt shift in atmosphere before giving in and following the group.

They were going to get their Lance back.

~~~~

Pidge let her fingers fly over the keys in front of her, hand smarting from where she punched Keith. A dim satisfaction filled her at the dull pain.

They had all spent too much time angsting, Keith in particular. It was no wonder they had all thought he was some emo bad boy in the beginning.

She let her pained fingers center her, a crude but effective way of bringing her own emotions under control.

Lance had been speaking to her when Lotor had activated his collar, the intense focus of his cerulean gaze zeroed in on her. She was sure of it. Judging from the way he had included her in the past, this generally meant that whatever he had planned would draw upon her technical expertise.

While the others had been losing themselves in their guilt, a guilt that Pidge definitely shared in, she had been thinking. Lance had been intending to tell them to follow something.

His earlier instructions to follow Red had led her to the heavily encrypted broadcasting channel of Lotor’s fleet after all.

The idea had finally come to her not long after Keith had started his frankly infuriating monologue.

After they got Lance back, she was going to sit everyone down and make them iron this shit out. This ragtag group was her second family and she loved them with all her little techie heart. But too many people were miscommunicating or making assumptions and it was starting to piss Pidge off. So she was going to do everything in her power to make them _fix_ it.

Hunk curled his hands over the back of Pidge’s chair eagerly, the light of hope in his eyes boosting Pidge’s own morale. The other team members joined him and Pidge suddenly felt humbled.

Even after she had led them into a trap earlier, they still had so much trust in her.

She let the thought bolster her and Pidge flexed her hand once more. “What did you come up with, Pidge?” Shiro said patiently, only the tightness of his grip on her chair betraying his anticipation.

Pidge tapped away at her computer, pulling up the lines of code that represented the broadcast channel for Lotor’s fleet. “When Keith mentioned that Lance was going to tell us to follow something, it gave me an idea.” Pidge began, turning in her chair to look at the assembled team, “When he was talking, he was definitely looking at me, so it made me think that it has something to do with the channel that I managed to hack into. Communications give off specific signals, even in a fleet the size of Lotor’s. So I might be able to track down the ship Lotor’s on by tracking the signals from the videos he kept sending us. It’s similar to what I did when we managed to reverse the signal and open the video on his end. This time I’d be tracking the physical signal though…”

“It’s a solid plan.” Allura mused, looking at the lines of code critically, “Coran, can you pull up the previous transmissions? It would help us compare the signals.”

Pidge nodded, happy that Allura was catching on to her ideas. “If we can figure out which ship sent those signals, we can find the ship that Lotor’s on. And once we know that…”

“We can find Lance.” Keith breathed, voice incredulous, “How soon do you think you can track him down?”

“It all depends on how often Lotor’s fleet communicates with each other. I’ll have to sift through all the various signals and communications to find the ones that match with the videos that we have.” Pidge frowned, “And we don’t have a lot of time. We all heard what Lotor said. He’s preparing for us and he could be on his way to Zarkon as we speak.”

“Then we’ll all help.” Hunk said resolutely, “If we all work our way through the signals, we can cover more ground and it’ll keep you from running yourself into the ground.”

Pidge flushed at Hunk’s pointed remark, ducking her head guiltily for a moment before straightening her shoulders. “That should work.” She smiled, “Guys, we can get him back.”

Fierce determination shone from the faces of her space family, the group immediately splitting up to go about their separate tasks. As they bustled around, Pidge focused on the lines of code in front of her, drawing upon her bond with Green for strength and focus.

She would not fail Lance this time.

Green purred her encouragement and Pidge tried and failed to suppress a broad smile. Her hands worked quickly, a familiarity born of horrid trial helping her through the weaving labyrinth of Lotor’s communication network. She shuffled through the signals, barely acknowledging the ping that sounded when Hunk joined her, his deep brown eyes focused on the lines of code with a laser-like intensity.

One by one, the members of Team Voltron joined Pidge, the videos that Coran retrieved looping in the background, their signals scrolling across the top of their screens in a bright vibrant green. The words of the videos were jarring at first but Pidge pushed it to the back of her mind, letting Lotor and Lance fade into background noise, too focused on finding the one ship of hundreds that matched the three signals.

It was long and arduous work, a task that Pidge enveloped herself in so completely that she didn’t even notice when Shiro had to escort Keith off the bridge, the Red Paladin growing so distracted by the videos looping Lance’s suffering that he could do nothing more than stare at the view screen with badly hidden fury.

They moved through the data with celerity, the firewalls that hid signal logs from them falling before the unstoppable force that was Pidge. She took the systems down with an ease that bordered on frightening, her emotions pushed to the side in favor of completing her task.

Minutes dragged into hours and one by one every member of Team Voltron completed the sections of data that Pidge had assigned to them. They were closing in on the signal, Pidge could feel it. Green gave a roar of encouragement, the sound vibrating over her bond as well as echoing through the castle.

The other lions picked up Green’s roar, the snarling noise a riot of sound and emotion. The encouragement pushed Pidge to work harder, hands flying across her keys almost without any conscious thought. Green pressed her consciousness ever closer, helpfully guiding Pidge when something began to get fuzzy and offering support and comfort every step of the way.

Pidge accepted Green’s aid gratefully, every moment growing closer to the destination she had been seeking. The dull buzz of anticipation unfurled in her gut and she let it drive her, a pulse of triumph stilling her hands as she watched her screen, lines lighting up her signature color: _green._

One by one each of the signals matched up and Pidge resisted the urge to crow in delight.

No. She would not be hasty this time. She would be sure. She would be beyond doubt.

Pulling up various windows on her screens, Pidge double checked the coordinates she had found. She cross-referenced the coordinates with the known parts of the sectors and cloaked her own probing signal before working her way into a ship nearby the one she had tracked down. The shields went down almost embarrassingly fast and Pidge scoffed.

After the level of security and technical wizardry she’d had to utilize to track down the trap ship, this was almost laughably easy.

Worryingly so.

Another hour passed before she could find no more avenues to exhaust, the other Paladins long since departed from the bridge. Tension and triumph warred and Pidge triple checked all avenues that were available to her, flicking her hazel gaze to the intercom.

She did it. She found him.

Pidge gave herself a moment, a single moment, to indulge in emotion. Tears slipped down her face before she roughly wiped them away, her glasses pressing uncomfortably into her forehead. Now came the really hard part.

They had to actually get him back.

Pidge pulled herself to her feet, inwardly glad that she didn’t feel nearly as deathly as the last time she had gotten engrossed in a tracking endeavor. She had promised Hunk she wouldn’t do that again and she fully intended to keep that promise to the best of her ability. After all, she couldn’t help Lance if she passed out as soon as she moved from one room into the next.

And she was itching to teach Lotor a lesson.

The videos in the background looped once more and Pidge found her gaze stuck upon them, watching as Lance changed drastically between each of the three videos, an aura of fearfulness surrounding him by the end of the third one.

The image of him clawing at his throat, wickedly sharp nails tearing at the skin around his collar would stick with her. Even now when Pidge closed her eyes, she could see him mouthing words at her desperately, gaze panicked and chest heaving.

She would never forget that image of Lance for as long as she lived.

Sorrow built in her chest as she looked over the form of her friend, the darkened lights of the Galra bridge only making it clearer how brightly he glowed now, the sprawling tattoos in his skin changing color as he talked.

Even when they got him back from Lotor, the battle wouldn’t be over.

Lance would be different, physically and mentally. Pidge wiped at her eyes again, turning from the screen with great difficulty. They needed to be there for him, more than they have been, maybe more than they had _ever_ been.

Pidge would make sure of it.

Setting her shoulders, Pidge walked over to the intercom and pressed in on the speaker. “Everyone should get ready. I found him.”

Turning to the view screen controls, Pidge deactivated the looping videos, Lotor’s taunting remarks cutting off halfway. Allura and Coran were the first to make it to the bridge, the sight of Allura fully outfitted in her flight suit amping up Pidge’s adrenaline.

This was really happening.

“I sent the others off to get changed. Once you give me the coordinates, I’ll start looking for a place for us to jump to.” Allura explained, a tense anger in her features that replaced the devastation of earlier.

If Pidge didn’t know any better, she’d think that the Princess was about to commit unholy murder.

Pidge didn’t waste any time, the look on Allura’s face striking a chord in her. She relayed the coordinates quickly, Coran inputting the data into the central command console, a star map blazing into life. Watching as the two Alteans tossed out ideas, Pidge leaned against the corner of her chair, waiting.

“Aren’t you going to go change?” Hunk whispered, his stealth making her jump and almost stumble into her chair.

Massive hands steadied her and Pidge threw Hunk an unimpressed look before returning her gaze to the star map. “I need to make sure that it isn’t a trap again.”

“We believe in you Pidge.” Hunk smiled, “I know you’ve done it this time. We’re gonna get Lance back.”

Smiling at his words, Pidge leaned her shoulder against her friend briefly before moving to attention when Allura made a noise of distress. “What’s wrong?”

“You found something alright, Number Five.” Coran said, answering for the princess, “It looks like Lotor’s command is in the center of his fleet, a mass of ships maybe hundreds strong. And we’re picking up faint signals from a druid vessel.”

The pad of footsteps caught Pidge’s attention and she looked up just as Keith and Shiro returned to the bridge. Shiro looked strained, a weariness to the set of his shoulders that made Pidge’s heart hurt.

And Keith. Well, something else must have happened.

Purple had begun to creep up his neck, hair taking on a decidedly violet shade in contrast to his previous raven hue. Gold glimmered at the corner of his eyes, a tension in his face that made Pidge think of an overstressed cord, just on the edge of snapping.

He took in the scene in front of him and Pidge barely stopped herself from reaching out to comfort him, her previous actions staying her hands. Everything had gotten so complicated.

What happened to the days where Keith would lay on the floor of her workshop, complaining about his feelings for Lance and their apparent unrequited aspect? How had they come so far from his gentle excitement over some shared flirting, her teases about being a Casanova making Keith flush and sputter?

She was happy for them, no doubt about that. But it was killing her that it had to happen this way. They deserved to be together naturally, not discover the feelings they had for each other, get separated, and weirdly reconnected by some alien bond while being tortured for some sick mad man’s enjoyment.

Why couldn’t they just have the little things?

Pidge met Keith’s stressed gaze boldly, startling when he gave her a sharp smile, his teeth looking pointier than they had had hours ago. He caught her flinch and snapped his mouth closed, an expression of shame crossing his face.

Hell with that.

Pidge marched over to the Red Paladin, poking him sharply in the side. “Just because you’re turning purple and pointy doesn’t change anything, Casanova.” She teased, taking pride in the shock that crossed his face, “Don’t get all weird on me. I’ll have to punch you again.”

He rested one hand on her shoulder heavily, a slight curve to his mouth once more. “I don’t know why we tell you anything.” He replied, a replica of his words only days prior.

A broad grin stretched her face and she smacked at his breastplate. “You wouldn’t know what to do without me.”

His smile dimmed once more and Pidge inwardly kicked herself. “You found him?” Keith asked quietly, voice so hesitant that Pidge leaned a little closer to him.

“Yeah.”

“What are we looking at?”

Pidge took a deep breath, looking to Keith critically. “Lotor’s ship is surrounded by the vast majority of his fleet, a few hundred ships at the very least. Coran also said that they were picking up the faint signals of a druid vessel.” Pidge relayed, watching Keith’s expression falter.

“What are we waiting for then?”

Pidge gaped at the Red Paladin, gesturing at the star map wildly. “Keith, we don’t have Lance or your Lion. If we could form Voltron we’d be okay but this? We just don’t have the firepower to go in guns blazing! We’d end up delivering ourselves to Lotor on a silver platter, not to mention giving him Voltron!”

“We aren’t going to be able to form Voltron unless we get Lance back!” Keith shot back, purple moving just an inch further up his neck, “We can’t just sit around here and wait!”

Hunk came up beside Pidge, placing one hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Did something else happen?”

A half-strangled sob pulled itself from Keith’s throat and he blinked rapidly, chest shuddering under Hunk’s palm. “It feels like he’s losing himself. I don’t know what Lotor’s doing to him and it’s terrifying. My head hurts because his head hurts. It feels like someone is trying to rattle my skull right off.” Keith said in a rush, “I can’t just sit still when it just feels like he’s about ready to fall off the deep end.”

Hunk’s expression dropped and Pidge looked to the taller boy in concern. “Hunk?”

“It’s probably the talking thing.” Hunk said quietly, none of them noticing as Shiro moved past them to Allura’s side, speaking in hushed voices, “Lance talks a lot.”

Pidge barely suppressed a sarcastic snort, looking at Hunk with a single eyebrow raised. Hunk flushed but soldiered on, expression dark. “It’s…a coping mechanism? When he’s anxious, or scared, or upset, he talks.” Hunk explained, “Most of the time it doesn’t really mean anything but it helps him calm down. He used to sing too when it would get really bad. When we first got to the Garrison, I’d hear him sing some of the old lullabies his mom would sing to him because he was so homesick. The one time he got laryngitis I thought he was going to start climbing the walls. He doesn’t do well when he can’t talk and I think Lotor figured that out.”

“All the more reason to find him.” Pidge said resolutely, turning back to the front screen to see Allura and Shiro staring at them intently, “What?”

“We have a plan if you guys want to hear it.” Shiro replied, lifting one eyebrow at them.

Keith perked up at Shiro’s words, looking at his brother eagerly. “What is it?”

“It’s going to be risky but we’re going to take advantage of Pidge’s access to the communications network.” Shiro relayed, “Allura thought that we might be able to send the other ships into panic and get them to take off after a false signal. While they’re distracted, we break into Lotor’s ship, get Lance and Red and wormhole as far away as we can.”

“So a hit and run essentially.” Pidge mused, crossing her arms over her chest as she thought, “What kind of signal do you want me to broadcast to the other ships?”

Allura gave her a smirk, turning her gaze to the blank view screen. “Send a communication from Lotor’s ship to his fleet, telling them that Voltron is attacking. Give them the coordinates for the nearest planet.”

Pidge walked over to the star map that Allura had opened in front of the bridge, a blinking planet highlighted in front of her. Trying to parse the description of the planet with her rudimentary Altean, Pidge’s eyebrows flew up and Allura gave her a wicked grin. “Allura, that planet is currently in the midst of such a huge storm system that nothing would make it through the atmosphere.”

“I am aware.”

“How am I going to convince Lotor’s ships that we’re there?”

“Because I’m going to have Coran hide the Castle of Lions behind the moon. Badly.” Allura said simply, placing her hands on her hips.

Pidge grinned at the plan, looking over to see a similar look on Keith’s face. “Let’s do it.”

It was time to put their plan in motion.

~~~~

Lotor stared out over the infinite abyss of the cosmos with a placid expression, fingers twisting idly in rich brown curls. The head under his hand shifted uncomfortably and Lotor pulled his eyes away from the stars to gaze at the pretty prize at his feet.

The soft twisting patterns of his tattoos glowed dully, the colors pulsating like the waves of the ocean. His legs splayed uncomfortably to one side, back pressed against the front of Lotor’s throne. The chain that connected to his wrists was clamped to the floor, keeping his hands far away from the collar at his throat. A soft pull to the collar’s chain brought the paladin up onto his knees, shoulders pulled forward with the tension of the chains on his wrists.

Lance gave him a look of disgust, the emotion fading as quickly as it came when Lotor trailed his claws down the side of Lance’s jaw. “All you have to do is tell me to stop.” Lotor murmured, letting his hands run over the ruined skin around the collar, “I would have let go of your hair, pretty pet.”

A shuttered look ran over Lance’s face, those blue eyes shimmering in the way that Lotor loved. “Come on now, little songbird.” Lotor purred, “You know what you have to do if you want to sing again.”

“Tell me about Voltron.”

Lance shook his head fiercely, tattoos blazing a defiant red. Every time Lotor pressed, he received the same answer but Lotor could feel him breaking, every hour another chip in that indomitable armor.

Not being able to speak was killing his little songbird and he reveled in the power he was beginning to hold over the Blue Paladin, even if he was coming to hate the red the tattoos blazed.

He would extinguish that anger, put it out like an unwanted fire.

Perhaps he would start by destroying the Red Lion. He could cripple Voltron by destroying its right arm and further alienate the Blue Paladin. How would the others react if they lost the Defender of the Universe because of him?

Looking over his pretty prize, Lotor smiled, the expression making Lance freeze in his grasp. “What’s with that face, Lance? Do you not find my smile appealing? How very sad. There are many who would kill to be in your place right now.”

Those blue eyes narrowed at him, words almost audible in the expression on his face. “Don’t believe me?” Lotor chuckled, hoisting Lance further up, an expression of pain crossing his face as his shoulders wrenched painfully, “Don’t worry. You will soon enough.”

The guards around the room shifted uncomfortably, the clank of their armor catching Lotor’s attention. “Is there something wrong, soldier?”

“No, my Prince.” They called, carefully keeping their eyes away from the throne.

An alarm blared through the ship before Lotor could push, the shrill noise making the paladin jump in his grasp, mouth opening in a silent expression of pain.

His expression distracted Lotor for a moment before he mercilessly squashed the urge to see it again.

Now was not the time.

Multiple screens popped up across the bridge, the various commanders of his fleet saluting him, panic clear in their features. Their faces blocked out his view of the cosmos and Lance flinched as his grip tightened, edging away from the sharp points of Lotor’s claws.

Lotor suppressed a sneer of disgust, the commanders shrinking back from him regardless.

Spineless, the lot of them.

The commanders of his fleet were pathetic worms, washed up sons of nobility and great officers, the disgraced offspring that Zarkon had no use for.

Much like Lotor himself.

He let his prize fall to the floor of the bridge, the clank of chains the only noise the Blue Paladin could make. The eyes of the commanders followed his downward path, some with far more interest than Lotor liked.

The Blue Paladin belonged to him.

“If you received a communication from me, then why are you calling me to question it?” Lotor hissed, subtly adjusting the brightness of his eyes and the sharpness of his teeth.

They quailed in the face of his anger, all but one, a clever female Galra who had won her position through her wits and ferocity rather than having it gifted to her by an entitled parent. She stood her ground, lifting an eyebrow at Lotor and his prize, a brief glint of appreciation filling her eyes as she looked over the Paladin.

“We called you because you’re sending us on a suicide mission.” She replied, “I don’t know about the others but I am not willing to die to distract Voltron. Just kill the Blue Paladin and be done with the whole mess.”

“Voltron?” Lotor hummed, pulling up a log to the side of the recent communications between ships, “I have sent no such missive regarding Voltron other than your previous orders.”

“We just received a communication from you, My Prince. It was telling us to attack Voltron on the nearby planet.” One of the braver commanders spoke up, their eyes carefully directed downwards.

“And?”

The female officer bared her teeth in a snarl, the aggression making Lotor’s hackles raise in response. “That planet is in the midst of a vortex storm. Any craft that broke through the atmosphere would be destroyed!”

Lotor looked down at the Paladin at his feet as he mused over this new information, recalling how the Green Paladin had managed to hack the encryption on the communication channel. It appears they were far more capable than he had given them credit for.

“It seems that Voltron has decided to be clever.” Lotor chuckled, “Maybe we should humor them. Act as if you are going to this planet.”

“I don’t think it is entirely a ruse, my Prince.” One of the older commanders said haughtily, looking down his frankly enormous nose at Lotor, “We have visual confirmation of the Castle of Lions on the far side of the planet’s moon.”

“Don’t be a fool.” The female commander snapped, “If we enter the atmosphere of that planet, we will be ripped to shreds.”

“Commander Liyana has a point.” Lotor sang, “Perhaps we should remember that she is the only one of you to have earned her position.”

The other commanders had the grace to look ashamed even as Liyana threw him a withering look. “That being said, my orders stand. Make Voltron believe we’ve fallen for their trick. Once they’ve made their move, return to the flagship. We will make short work of them.”

The commanders saluted as one, their view screens disappearing in sequence, all but Liyana’s. “You should kill him.” She advised, her eyes locked on the Paladin frozen at Lotor’s feet, “If the paladins of Voltron manage to retrieve him and the Red Lion, we will lose.”

“There’s no chance of that.” Lotor chuckled, “As much as I enjoy your sass, I must insist that you remember your place, Liyana.”

Liyana returned his look coldly, golden eyes narrowed. “Ah yes. The place I earned with my own feats of strength. A position of honor serving beneath Zarkon’s half-breed son. I have never been so proud.”

“Yes. That sass.” Lotor sighed, “I will not tell you again, Commander. Follow your orders.”

She gave him a lazy salute before her view screen clicked off, her disrespect making Lotor clench his teeth in suppressed rage. A shiver at his feet drew his attention and he glanced down, the Paladin curled low to the ground around his knees, the chill of the bridge raising bumps across his skin.

Lotor let his claws travel over his dark skin, raised lines following the path of his hand. The Paladin arched away from his hand, looking back at him fearfully. One claw sliced deeper than the others and once again, his lovely songbird made a silent sound of pain, eyes clenching shut. Crimson welled along the lines, a rich contrast to the icy blue of his tattoos, their glow reflecting off the surface of the human’s blood.

“What should I do with you, paladin?” Lotor mused, leaning back in his chair so that he could press a booted foot to the center of Lance’s back, pressing him into the freezing floor, slender trails of crimson dripping down his spine, “Would it be worth it to kill you now? Worth it to watch the hope drain from your friends’ eyes as they see that their risk had all been for nothing?”

Lance looked back at him defiantly, even daring to lift his chin, almost daring Lotor to kill him. The gorgeous depths of his cerulean eyes dragged the Galra Prince in and he knew in that moment that it would not be worth it to kill this human.

No. He needed to be broken beyond all repair before Lotor would allow death to come for him.

But how to break him…

Lotor tapped one of his hands at the tip of his chin, the fragrant smell of the paladin’s blood clinging to his claws. Lance let his eyes close in pain, the skin around his eye scales scrunching up as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Ah. That would do it.

He looked up to one of the guards, snapping his fingers to get their attention. “Go get the kit.”

“What?”

Lotor narrowed his eyes at the slow guard, their faces growing pale with fear when they realized what they had said. “I said, go get the kit.”

“Do you want us to bring Maia as well?”

“Hm.” Lotor smirked, looking back to his prize, “Just the child.”

“Maia will fight us.” The guard said fearfully, his grip on blaster far too tight, “She won’t let her kit go without her.”

“Then let her come along.” Lotor laughed, “This will be fun for all of them.”

The guard left hesitantly, his partner following after him. Lance looked up from his place on the floor, eyes searching. He tried to push himself up from the floor but Lotor only pressed lightly on his back and his pretty prize collapsed back, chains clanging harshly against the metal.

“Patience, Lance. You’ll see when they get here.”

Lotor marveled at how easy it was to read the paladin’s expressions, to look at his face and see just what was on his mind.

Lance mouthed something at him, no doubt some sort of profanity. Lotor chuckled at the weak act of rebellion, the absence of sound hurting Lance far more than most anything Lotor could do.

He let his foot rest heavily on Lance’s back, exerting pressure every time the paladin attempted to climb to his feet. Soon the over-loud stomp of booted feet returned and Lotor watched as Maia marched through the door, head held high and kit clutched in her arms. She eyed him warily, the guards that flanked her looking more than worse for wear.

“How nice of you to finally join us.” Lotor said quietly, pressing down on his foot to push Lance further against the floor, the weak creak of his bones making its way to Lotor’s ears as Lance let another silent exclamation of pain leave him, “Put Kore down, Maia.”

She hesitated, hands tightening in her kit’s fur. Slowly, she put the little girl down, letting her hide her sensitive eyes in the folds of her dress. Lotor pulled up the panel for the room, dimming the lights until they were similar to the cave-like darkness of the trophy room.

It was in his best interest that the kit be able to see. For now at least.

“Kore. Come here.” Lotor ordered, suppressing a chuckle when she flinched at the sound of her name.

After looking to her mother for confirmation, Kore made her way over, her uncertain gait amusing to Lotor. She stopped just out of his reach, kneeling down beside Lance and placing one tiny hand on his shoulder in a form of childish comfort. The fear on her face was unmistakable, a tremor to her hands giving her away even as she tried to present a strong front.

It was almost adorable.

Beneath Lotor’s foot, Lance barely dared to move, eyes flicking between Kore and Lotor with a dawning apprehension. His firm back barely lifted with his breath, the hesitance making Lotor lift a single pale brow.

Excellent.

“Your friends are most interesting, little songbird.” Lotor began, tapping the toe of his shoe between Lance’s shoulder blades, “Won’t you tell me about them?”

The sprawling tattoos under his boot glowed red and Lotor clicked his tongue disapprovingly, one finger tapping at the control panel, the lights of the bridge brightening ever so slightly.

The kit blinked uncomfortably at the change but didn’t move, her gaze carefully focused downward even as her little claws grasped at her new friend, the paladin barely wincing as she pricked him.

“Don’t you want to speak to little Kore again, Lance? I’m sure she’s missed you quite terribly, haven’t you?”

Kore nodded, little claws flexing again. “Speak up, kit.”

“Yes, my Prince.” She blurted, her other hand clenched at her side, “I have missed Lance friend.”

“Oh my, how precious.” Lotor cooed, pressing on Lance’s back once more, an eyebrow arching when he felt a bone give under his foot.

Kore jumped as if she had been struck, looking to her friend in horror when a silent scream accompanied the break, Lance’s breaths coming in pants, every inhalation pressing Lotor’s foot harder onto the broken rib. Lotor sighed, tapping one of his claws against the metal of his chair. “That didn’t sound like fun. You humans are simply too fragile.” He tutted, “You can make it stop, Lance. You can speak to little Kore again. You know what you have to do.”

Red again, this time tinged with an unpleasant green.

Lotor suppressed his frustration, inching the lights up once more. Kore made a sound of pain, valiantly trying to keep her hands where they were, eyes now narrow slits of gold, tears traveling down her face as the light was proving to be too much. A scuffle sounded to the side as Maia fought against the guards, a feral snarl pulling itself from her lips. “Put her outside.” Lotor ordered, the guards leaping to his command, barely able to wrestle the female Galra into the hallway.

It was times like these that Lotor remembered that Maia had been a highly trained assassin, one of the best that the Empire had employed. That is, until she left it all behind for love, her non-Galra mate and half breed child dooming her to disgrace.

She might have even been put to death if Lotor hadn’t found her first.

With a heavy sigh, he opened another panel, inputting commands to the sensor to Maia’s slender collar, a series of chemicals releasing from the internal mechanism to calm the furious female. The sounds of scuffle abruptly halted in the hallway beyond and the doors reopened, a limp Maia held gingerly between the two guards she brutalized.

“Mama!” Kore called, breaking her pose to begin to run to her unresponsive mother.

Lotor clicked his tongue once and the kit froze, turning back to her master with watering, slitted golden eyes. “Did I dismiss you?”

“No, my Prince.”

Distraction eliminated, Lotor turned his gaze fully to the two prizes at his feet, Kore’s eyes watering incessantly in the brightness of the lights. With a sharp smile, he urged the lights up another tick, the shine off the lights even proving to be uncomfortable to the other Galra in the room. Lance gasped from under his foot, breath painful with his broken rib. Even with the pain, he mouthed words at the kit, clearly trying to comfort her.

It was so sweet that it sickened Lotor.

“Why are you trying to comfort her now?” Lotor asked, pitching his voice accusingly, “This is all your fault, Lance. Maia and Kore are hurting because of you. Don’t you want to apologize?”

A shudder ran through the Blue Paladin and Lotor held his breath, nearly tasting his triumph.

“I’ll ask you again, songbird.” Lotor said lowly, “Tell me about Voltron?”

A myriad of colors flickered through his tattoos, their hues centering on a deep blue when Kore let out a sniffle, her claws pricking at Lance’s shoulder once more, the lights too bright for her to keep her eyes open. Lotor could barely contain his roar of triumph when the colors finally settled on a weak blue-green, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“That’s the way, little Blue.” Lotor hummed, moving his foot from Lance’s firm back and tightening his grip in the chain that ran to Lance’s collar.

Lance gingerly pushed himself up from the floor, almost not making it when the movement shifted his ribs. He let his forehead rest against the ground for a moment, shallow breaths making his chest heave and jewelry jingle. When he finally made it up to his knees, he turned as much as the chains on his wrists would allow, Kore’s hand slipping off his shoulder and coming to join her other hand in covering her eyes.

Lotor reached down slowly, tapping a specific pattern into the collar around Lance’s throat. He could see the moment that the vibrational frequency changed, relief making Lance’s tattoos blaze a brilliant blue.

“Let Kore go, first.” Lance said at last, a hoarseness to his voice that Lotor found particularly appealing.

A wave of his hand dimmed the room once more, leaving Lance glowing brightly. The kit scampered back to her unresponsive mother, hiding behind her to watch the exchange with watery, frightened eyes.

Lotor watched her go, disinterest clear in his face before he turned back to the lovely, mostly human boy at his feet.

Wouldn’t that be a wonderful surprise for later?

Lotor mused over his more subtle changes for a moment before lifting his hand to Lance’s jaw, tracing his fingers over the strong bone there.

“You were going to sing for me?”

An expression of resignation flitted across Lance’s face before his defiance returned, red blazing across his skin, the hue brighter than it had ever been before.

“Voltron is going to kick your ass.”

Rage blurred Lotor’s vision, that crimson glow taunting him. With a swift kick, he crushed the post chaining Lance’s wrists to the floor and surged to his feet, Lance dangling from the chain helplessly, choking on the collar around his throat.

“I do not share your humor, paladin.” Lotor spat, slamming his knee into Lance’s stomach, the metal of his bellybutton ring tearing at Lotor’s pants.

Lance let out a strangled groan, newly unchained hands coming to grasp the lead that Lotor held, wiry muscles in his arms bulging as he tried to lessen the pressure on his throat.

“And I am growing tired of your acts of rebellion. Why won’t you break?” Lotor hissed, pulling Lance closer to his bared fangs.

“Because I don’t have to hold out forever.” Lance wheezed, a sharp smirk on his face, “I only have to outlast _you_.”

In lieu of a response, Lotor hurled the human across the bridge, a sickening thud sounding when he slammed against the floor, body rolling to a stop against the far wall.

Lotor stalked after him, ignoring the cry from the kit and the uneasy mumbling of the guards. He kicked the paladin away from the wall and pinned him to the floor beneath his boot, fragile sternum creaking under the force.

New bruises and scratches lined his dusky skin, pain clear in his expressive features. He looked up at Lotor in a daze, defiance still visible even through the fog of his pain.

“This will be the last rebellion, little Blue.” He said through his teeth, leashing his anger in order to redirect its force, “I will make sure of that. And while you enjoy the punishment I have in store for you, I will destroy your precious Voltron. I will bring your fellow paladins here one by one and make you watch as they’re executed. And I will take my time with your precious Red Paladin.”

Lotor reached down quickly, his prize flinching the moment that he moved. His claws curled around the chain at Lance’s throat, wrapping it around his fist before letting his other hand creep to the back of the collar, pressing against the surface in a complex pattern.

It was a function of the collar he’d had installed as a safety net, a way of taming his willful prize through pain in addition to silence. Electric shocks would travel from the back of his collar up into his brain, confusing the signals and making him feel unimaginable agony from all the different corners of his body. It wouldn’t last long, just enough to teach him a lesson.

It would be enough.

A brief zap sounded from the collar before the paladin went rigid, teeth clenched together and tattoos glowing a sickly green. While Lance was distracted by the first wave of pain, Lotor input the silencing code once more.

“Feel free to scream as much as you want.” Lotor sneered, “No one will hear you.”

He left the paladin beside the far wall, brushing past the unresponsive Maia and her trembling kit as well as the guards whose faces tried and failed to be impassive, judgement and horror in their eyes.

He had made it halfway down the hallway when Lance’s will failed him and a scream ripped itself from his throat, the sound abruptly cutting off halfway through.

The Galra Prince smiled at the sound, allowing the memory of it to soothe his anger. The paladin would learn.

He would be sure of it.

The doors of the hangar slid open at his approach, a troop of guards saluting as he walked in.

The lead guard stepped forward, confidence in his posture and look of curiosity on his face. “Good evening, my Prince. What can we assist you with today?”

“I want a status report on the Red Lion.”

Snapping to attention, the leader nodded, gesturing to the giant robotic cat protected by a particle barrier.

“It appears to be repairing itself, sir. When it was first transferred here, it was in bad shape but with every hour the damages are being repaired, almost from the inside out.”

“Any success in taking down the particle barrier?” Lotor questioned idly, picking at the bed of one of his claws.

“No sir. None of our technicians have had any luck and we’ve held off trying to exhaust it in order to avoid accidentally damaging it.”

Lotor grinned wickedly, resting one hand on his hip. “Then forget it. It we can’t get inside, it is useless to me. Destroy it.”

The guard looked at him in shock, professional demeanor forgotten in the face of Lotor’s demand. “But my Prince, Emperor Zarkon has specifically ordered that we capture the lions in one piece!”

“He also ordered that their paladins be delivered to him immediately.” Lotor parroted, eyes narrowed at the guard before him, “I care little for Emperor Zarkon’s orders, soldier.”

The guard only stared at him, jaw dropped at Lotor’s blatant disobedience.

“I will not tell you again.” Lotor grinned, turning away from the group of guards.

“Destroy the Red Lion.”

~~~~

Liyana slipped away from her bridge, technicians and soldiers scrambling around like ants from a destroyed hive. Her disappearance went unnoticed and she returned to her quarters, slipping a tiny drive out from under her nail and placing it in the port of her personal communication system.

The screen remained blank for a moment before a familiar face greeted her. “Liyana. You’re reporting outside of your scheduled time. Has something happened?”

“I may need to jeopardize my cover, Kolivan.” Liyana said harshly, crossing her arms over her chest, “Lotor has one of the paladins of Voltron as a prize and a very good chance of taking the others for Zarkon.”

“It’s taken us nearly twenty years to get you to the position that you are in now.” Kolivan said fiercely, “With Thace’s sacrifice during our first attack on Zarkon, we can’t afford to lose the commanders that we have. You are the highest rank officer remaining in Zarkon’s employ.”

“Under Lotor! You and I both know that I find out nothing here.” Liyana spat, idly grasping at the empty scabbard where her Blade once sat.

“You find out enough.”

“I am not going to stand by while Lotor gets his hands on Voltron.” Liyana threatened, the locket against her chest heavy.

Kolivan sighed, resignation in his features. “We’ve lost too many members of the Blade lately. Do what you must but be prudent. We cannot afford to lose you.”

Liyana inclined her head, ears flicking. “I will update you on the situation when I am able.”

With a brief nod, Kolivan disconnected, the black screen reflecting Liyana’s narrowed eyes back at her. She fished her locket out from beneath her uniform, clicking it open to gaze at the well-loved pictures within. Her mate have been long since gone from this world but she knew that her kit was still out there.

She would do everything in her power to help make the universe safe for him.

Steeling herself, Liyana slipped the locket back under her uniform, letting it hang close to her heart.

She had a few ships to “accidentally” knock into the atmosphere of a planet undergoing a vortex storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update probably won't be until late next week. This week is my Dead Week at school and then I have my last final next week. As such, I'm not really going to have the time to devote to Songbird. Sadly. :(  
> Chapter Six is gonna be full of action, daring laser fights and maybe a reference to Aladdin?  
> Anyway, thanks for reading. Always feel free to drop me a comment. I love hearing what you guys think!
> 
> All art in this chapter is thanks to the lovely suitboxers! Please stop by his tumblr to see more of his work!


	6. Rescue!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voltron gets their act together with some unexpected help, Lance finds his inner Disney princess and Keith learns some important lessons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently longer waits mean longer chapters. This thing is a hecking monster guys. It's over 50 pages in Word and I absolutely refuse to split my chapters again.

Hunk watched quietly as the bridge buzzed with activity, Pidge’s station crowded as Shiro and Allura talked with her about the more technical aspects of the plan. A part of Hunk wanted to press his way in and insist on helping but he couldn’t bring himself to move. On the other side of the bridge, Coran bustled around a strangely calm Keith, Coran’s hushed voice making Keith’s lengthening ears perk up.

Giving the Red Paladin a lingering look, Hunk barely held himself back from asking about Lance. Keith had finally eased out of his last frantic phase, the evidence of his Galra heritage still creeping up his neck from his previous emotional upheaval.

He was just so worried. Lance was alone, on a strange ship with a sadistic prince bent on completely bending him to his will. His best friend was strong but no one could last against something like that forever. Just how long did they have left before all that was left to recover of Lance was an empty shell, a broken toy barely able to function?

It was an outcome that Hunk refused to consider. He would have faith in Lance.

No matter what happened, they were going to get him back.

Letting that thought bolster him, Hunk pulled himself from his worries, making his way to his feet. He walked towards Pidge’s station, intent on finding something that he could work on, if only to have a task to occupy his hands and mind. He had made it halfway across the bridge when Keith abruptly doubled over, hitting the metal of the floor with a discordant clang.

He curled into himself with a stifled cry, an understanding Coran kneeling at his side. Before Hunk could register his own movement, he was at Keith’s side as well, hands hovering over his shuddering back. “What’s going on?”

“I’m afraid something is going on with Lance.” Coran said seriously, eyebrows furrowed over his bright eyes, “Keep breathing, Keith.”

A half choked cough sounded from the boy on the floor and Hunk gave into his instincts, letting his hand rub soothingly over the length of Keith’s back. The motion seemed to help center Keith, the Red Paladin regaining his breath in great gasps of air. “Come on, buddy. Talk to us.” Hunk said absently, letting his mouth run without his mind’s consent.

“He’s hurt.” Keith grunted, curling his fingers into tight fists, “Something is broken. I can feel it here.”

One hand loosened before wrapping around his ribcage, breath seeming to come in strained pants. “Why do I feel it so strongly?” He demanded, looking to Coran with eyes that were more gold than violet, “It’s almost like my ribs were broken!”

Coran looked distressed at this information and Hunk could wholeheartedly empathize with that particular emotion. Lotor was _still_ hurting Lance?

Broken ribs could so easily turn into something else. He could puncture a lung. The bone could push its way through the skin, creating a heavily bleeding wound. Bone shards could get lodged in Lance’s chest cavity.

Each possibility wound Hunk tighter and the hand not unconsciously petting the Red Paladin curled around the bars of the control panel, knuckles creaking as he squeezed. A pat on his shoulder pulled Hunk from his downward spiral, Coran’s concerned gaze much closer than it was a moment ago.

Abruptly, Hunk felt guilty.

Keith was currently on the floor feeling the psychic backlash from pain that wasn’t his. Pain that belonged to Hunk’s best friend, and he was handling it far better than Hunk was.

“Don’t beat yourself up, Hunk.” Keith said through gritted teeth, letting one of his hands flop on the deck beside Hunk’s leg, “I know you’re worried about him.”

“I’m worried about you too!” Hunk protested hotly, “Feeling what he’s going through can’t be healthy, dude! What are we supposed to do if we manage to get inside the ship but Lotor like stabs Lance or something? You’ll go down like a sack of potatoes!”

“I won’t let that happen.” Keith hissed, eyes widening as the initial pain from the rib faded but something else transmitted over their bond.

Hunk watched the emotions flit over Keith’s face, his normally taciturn expressions completely overpowered by whatever bond had been created between him and Lance. An expression of pride crossed Keith’s face at one point before it faded into confusion, a hint of panic on the edges. “He’s about to do something really dumb.” Keith whispered, glancing to Hunk with such a lost look that he felt wrong-footed, unsure of what he should be doing in this situation.

Lance had always been better with people. Hunk liked machines. They made more sense.

“You and I both know that Lance does a lot of dumb stuff.” Hunk tried, the joke falling slightly flat.

His spirits lifted when Keith let out a wry chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re not wrong.”

Silence fell again, Coran’s absence suddenly feeling like a void at their sides. When had he even left?

Hunk let his eyes rest upon Keith, their gazes connecting for one tense moment as emotions flitted over Keith’s face. “What’s happening now?”

“Someone else is there.” Keith said slowly, confusion crossing over his face once more as he tried to parse through something, “He’s trying to protect someone else. I keep getting the impression that whoever it is, they’re little, and they remind him of someone.”

“If it’s a kid, all bets are off.” Hunk sighed, “Lance has several younger siblings but his youngest sister, Stella, means everything to him. I’m pretty sure he’d throw himself in front of a bullet for a little kid.”

Horror abruptly filled Keith’s face and Hunk felt his stomach sink to his feet.

Oh, Lance, no.

“It is a kid, isn’t it?”

Keith had just enough time to nod before he doubled over again, clawed hands grasping at his stomach. He curled deeper into himself, flinching and rolling his shoulders inward in a quick fluid motion. “Oh, I am going to punch the fuck out of that beautiful moron.” Keith whimpered, franticness returning to his face once more, “We gotta get in there.”

Hunk recoiled when Keith launched himself to his feet, teeth bared in a pained snarl. He made it two steps before he froze, expression falling into a full panic. “The connection cut out again.” Keith breathed, “He cut it out again!”

Chest going cold at Keith’s words, Hunk looked up and met Shiro’s eyes across the bridge. The Black Paladin nodded his head towards Keith and they both moved at once. They reached his side almost simultaneously, catching his arms as his knees seemed to give out. “Whatever Lance did, I’m sure he did it to protect you.” Shiro consoled, expression tight.

“Why does he keep doing that?” Keith snapped, “I can protect myself!”

“Love makes people really dumb.” Hunk interjected, drawing Keith’s ire upon himself.

“It shouldn’t make you give yourself up for other people!”

“Wouldn’t you do the same?” Hunk said quietly, the words stopped Keith in his tracks.

“I…but, I…”

“But nothing. If you would do the same in Lance’s position, how can you get mad at him over it?” Hunk argued, maintaining his gaze even when Keith looked to the side guiltily.

“Nobody told me it would be like this.” Keith mumbled, looking up at Shiro almost helplessly.

“Being in love?” Shiro said, question in his voice, “No one can really tell you what it’s going to be like, Keith. But everyone can tell you that it’s terrifying. Maybe not for the reasons that you’re going through but no love is ever perfect.”

Hunk grinned up at Shiro mischievously, the familiarity of the expression making his heart ache for his missing best friend.

“Gosh, Dad. That was pretty deep.” Hunk teased watched as Shiro flushed.

“Please don’t call me that.” Shiro sighed, “I am barely older than the rest of you. I can’t be your Dad or Space Dad or whatever variation of Dad you keep calling me.”

“Is Space Dad disowning us?” Pidge piped up from her corner, the sentence making Shiro groan.

“Pidge, I’m not disowning you.”

“So you _are_ Space Dad? Maybe I was talking about Coran?” The Green Paladin cackled, Shiro’s expression of bafflement leaving Hunk fighting giggles.

“She got you.” Keith said wryly, some of the tension leaving him, “Guess you have kids now, Shiro.”

“I will ground all of you.”

Hunk let out an overdramatic gasp, leaning into Keith’s space. “We’ve given him too much power! Quick, grab the water guns! Lance-“

Cutting himself off quickly, Hunk’s shoulders fell, the mention of his best friend’s name handily popping the happy bubble that had formed in the bridge.

The grin that had formed on Keith’s face slipped off like water and Hunk inwardly cursed.

They’d been doing so well.

Hunk opened his mouth, words of encouragement and comfort on the tip of his tongue when an ominous click sounded through the bridge, the hum of the view screen loud behind his back.

He turned slowly, carefully concealing the weakened Keith behind his sturdy form. However, the face on the screen was definitely _not_ what he was expecting.

Instead of a gloating Lotor, warped Lance in his possession, Team Voltron was face to face with a female Galra, the uniform she was clad in declaring her to be a high-ranking commander.

And she looked pissed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She demanded, the fire in her words almost hauntingly familiar, “Are you actively trying to deliver Voltron to Zarkon?”

“I beg your pardon?” Allura returned, offense and hostility clear in her voice.

“Your false transmission.” The commander spat, “Lotor is aware of your trick. He ordered us to feign falling for it long enough to draw you in. You would have no chance of success as you are. All of you would fall into Lotor’s hands.”

“Who are you?” Shiro interjected, “Why would you warn us?”

“I am Liyana, one of the High Commanders of Prince Lotor’s fleet.” Liyana stated simply, golden eyes narrowed in a way that made Hunk nervous, “I am also a spy for the Blade of Marmora.”

“How do we know you aren’t lying?” Pidge interjected, sitting on the back of her chair so she could see better, “Don’t all of you have a special blade?”

“How many commanders have you run into that claim to be members of the Blade?” Liyana said dryly, arching a single eyebrow, “Besides, my Blade has been with my kit for many years.”

“She has a point…” Hunk conceded, “But why are you contacting us now?”

“In hopes that I can dissuade you from this foolish mission.” Liyana said coldly, “You have little to no chance of retrieving your paladin. Lotor is close enough to breaking him as it is. There can be other Blue Paladins.”

The silence after her words was heavy, all of them shocked speechless by her callous advice.

She wanted them to leave Lance? To abandon him to Lotor?

After everything they’d been through together, the years of their lives passed in each other’s company, the battles they had survived at each other’s sides?

Hunk wouldn’t even consider it.

He would rather they fail here today than give up his best friend. Lance had already suffered too much.

“How dare you.” Hunk snarled, voice breaking the silence like a rock through a pane of glass, the sharpness only inflaming his anger more, “How dare you even suggest that we abandon Lance?!”

He took a threatening step forward, hands curling into dangerous fists. “I don’t know what kind of twisted set of morals you have, lady, but we don’t abandon our own. We aren’t the Blade of Marmora! Voltron is a team, a family, and you don’t _abandon_ family!”

She gave a half-aborted flinch at his last sentence, expression shuttering involuntarily. Seizing his opportunity, Hunk plowed on, Yellow pressing alongside his consciousness, reassuring him of how correct he was.

They would not abandon one of their own.

“We can’t just _find_ another Blue Paladin and we don’t want to! Lance is our friend and our family. I would tear the universe apart before I left him behind again!”

Liyana looked at him coldly, a defensive stiffness to her shoulders. “You may not have a choice.” She replied, voice rougher than her earlier smooth speech, “If Lotor heeds my advice, he will soon put the Blue Paladin out of his misery.”

Hunk recoiled at her words, stepping back as if it were a physical blow. Behind him, he could hear a low, violent growl, the sound sending a shiver up his spine.

He had only a moment to turn out of the way before a furious Keith flew forward, Shiro trying valiantly to keep him from flying at the view screen.

“What the fuck kind of advice did you give him?!” Keith roared, purple creeping up to the line of his chin, eyes narrowed in fury.

Hunk glanced to the screen for her answer only to see the commander silent, an expression of open emotion on her previously taciturn face.

She looked utterly shell-shocked.

Keith snarled again, the screech of his nails against Shiro’s Galra arm making everyone flinch.

“What advice did you give him?” Keith repeated lowly, his words making the female Galra recoil, eyes guilty.

“What is he to you?” She asked, trying and failing to return to her brusque tone.

Hunk let his eyes flick between them, curiosity about the complete change in her reactions overpowering his righteous anger.

What was it about Keith that seemed to shock her so badly? What was it that unsettled her? That made her so hesitant and shaky?

Was it his apparent Galra heritage? Hunk was pretty sure that most people knew by now that Voltron had a half-Galra paladin. It had gotten them into a few messes here and there but none of them would trade Keith for the world.

As Hunk mused, Keith stilled slightly in Shiro’s arms, indecision coming to overpower his anger for a moment before the fire that represented the Red Paladin so well blazed forth once more.

“I _love_ him.” Keith hissed, “I don’t even know what to call us right now but that’s what I know for sure. Now what did you tell Lotor?!”

She flinched back at Keith’s confession, the rest of the bridge stilling at his words as well. Hunk was a little floored. Keith loved Lance?

It was such a little thing but Hunk couldn’t help but to be overjoyed, the reality of his best friend’s love life making him so very happy. No longer would he have to listen to Lance bemoan his apparent unrequited feelings and feel sadness. He wouldn’t have to listen and wonder if his best friend would ever find that someone who would show him the same level of devotion and care that Lance had in him.

Keith loved Lance!

Hunk’s revelation made him giddy and he looked to the screen, a little uneasy when he saw that the Galra commander had put a hand over her mouth, eyes wide and glistening at the corners. A moment passed and Hunk stared at her critically, trying once more to try and figure out why she looked so familiar to him.

Had they fought her? Had she been present when the Castle had housed members of the Blade? She moved her hand away, an expression of such devastation on her face that Hunk felt his empathetic heart break in response, a light clicking on in his head.

He’d seen that expression before.

On Keith.

“I advised Lotor to kill the Blue Paladin.”

A moment passed where no one moved, Liyana’s admission making Hunk’s stomach sink to his feet. She told that bastard to kill him?

“You did what…?” Keith said quietly, an expression identical to hers crossing his face, “He…he just went quiet…”

The devastation on Keith’s face matched the expression on Liyana’s, purple moving up over his chin to creep further onto his face.

Hunk could see it now, focusing on his dawning revelation so that he didn’t fall into despair at Keith’s words.

There was no way that Lance was dead. He refused to even entertain the option.

He glanced between the Red Paladin and the Galra Commander, noting everything that he could. They had similar hair, the fluff and coloration almost identical. While Liyana’s was carefully tamed, Keith’s ran wild in the mullet that Lance teased him about so often.

The shape of their eyes was the same, a softly rounded shape that could scrunch in anger or narrow in frustration, their emotions mirrored in the golden depths. Even the purple that crept over Keith’s skin matched hers in hue, a lighter purple that most Galra Hunk had seen.

She even matched him in sass, her attitude identical to the brusque desert dweller they had encountered upon rescuing Shiro.

He couldn’t be sure but there was a pretty good chance that Liyana was the mother Keith had been searching for.

And Hunk had no idea what to do with that information.

“If he’s dead, I’m coming after you.” Keith promised, eyes flashing gold before he turned away from her, letting Shiro half-carry him to the far side of the bridge, way out of the view screen’s field of vision.

“You’ve delivered your warning.” Allura said coldly, “What more do you want?”

Liyana looked to the princess helplessly, her every expression just reminding Hunk more and more of Keith. “I…I want to do more.” She admitted, “I’m afraid that I made a mistake.”

Pidge let out a sardonic snort at that, her hazel eyes fierce. “No, you only just told a psychotic prince to kill our friend, the same friend who has been suffering at his hands for several days now.” She spat, the words making Liyana falter.

“I did not realize how greatly he was valued.” Liyana replied, a bit of her previous defensiveness returning, “The Blade does not pursue those who have been captured. We are expected to die with honor and not to betray our brethren. To see others who do not share the same mentality, while sharing the same goal, is jarring. I have acted rashly and I wish to make amends for my mistake.”

“Then help us.” Hunk responded, surprising himself at the even tone to his voice, “Help us scatter Lotor’s fleet long enough to get Lance out.”

Liyana hesitated for a moment, golden eyes flicking to the corner of the screen Keith had disappeared to before meeting Hunk’s gaze resolutely. “Fine. I will assist you. Give me a moment to contact Kolivan and let him know that I’m going to be compromising my cover. Have one of the Lions come to assist me. It will be easier to lure the others close enough to the atmosphere of Drax-4 if there is some tangible proof that Voltron is here.”

“How do we know that we can trust you?” Allura interjected, “How do we know that you won’t simply turn on us to protect yourself?”

“Because I refuse to hurt him again.” Liyana said cryptically, “Give me a few minutes to contact Kolivan and meet me at these coordinates. Don’t be late.

The connection abruptly cut short and Hunk blinked at the blank view screen. “Did anyone else notice that she said minutes instead of the alien equivalent?”

“Is that important?” Allura queried, the stress in her shoulders yet to abate, “Never mind, we must decide if we’re going to trust her or not.”

“I’m in.” Hunk said immediately, the other members of Team Voltron turning to him incredulously, “What? She seemed pretty sincere at the end there. I’m going to give her a chance. Like she said, it’s going to be hard to get the drop on Lotor when he already knows our plan. If she can give us a better shot at getting Lance out of there, I say we take it.”

“If Lance is still there to get out.” Keith said dully, his eyes heavy-lidded and body slumped over one his armrests.

“Lance isn’t dead.” Hunk snapped, “You said it yourself. He cut the connection. It wouldn’t feel that way if he died.”

“Oh yeah?” Keith growled, surging to his feet, “What would you know? Have you suddenly gotten all this experience with weird alien brain bonds?”

“No.” Hunk replied, an iciness to his words, “But I’m not the one who is assuming the person they love is dead without any concrete proof.”

Keith’s anger evaporated at Hunk’s response, looking up at Hunk with a helpless expression. “It’s…It’s just…Hunk you don’t understand! I keep reaching but he isn’t there!”

“Have you seen a body?”

“Hunk…I-“

“Have you seen a body?!” Hunk roared, Keith recoiling at his anger.

“No.” He responded stonily, a hint of his previous determination returning.

“Until you see a body, he isn’t dead.” Hunk said with finality, pushing down his own worries and doubts viciously.

Now wasn’t the time.

The gentle clearing of a throat caught the attention of both paladins and they took steps back, turning to face the uneasy princess. “Hunk has a point, even if his phrasing is not necessarily something I can agree with.” She consoled, “We will get Lance back, Keith. And Hunk, perhaps, you are right. If this is something you feel so strongly about, would you consent to going with Commander Liyana?”

Hunk blinked at the princess’s offer, unsure what to do with the level of trust the team had placed in him. “Uh, sure.” He accepted awkwardly, “Yellow is probably the best suited for it. Her armor will hold up a lot better against the ships than the rest of the lions.”

The rest of team Voltron looked at him hopefully and Hunk felt his spirits lift, Yellow pressing alongside his mind to roar her readiness.

She was down to kick some ass.

“It’s settled then. Go on down to Yellow’s bay. We’ll get everything set up here and follow you out.” Allura said, the earlier tremor to her voice calmed, “Shiro, Keith, and I will take the Black Lion while Pidge takes Green and provides cover. Once Hunk and Liyana have sufficiently distracted the fleet, we’ll make our way into Lotor’s ship and retrieve Lance.”

“What about Blue?” Pidge asked, her voice making them all pause, “She isn’t going to just sit in her hangar. She hasn’t this whole time. If we leave without her, it could pose a problem.”

“Let her out.” Shiro stated simply, hand idly buffing out the scratches on his Galra arm, “Red can often pilot herself well enough to get Keith out of a bind and we need all the help we can get. Besides, Blue might be able to help us find Red at the very least. Her signal is still pretty weak, even as close as we are to the rest of the fleet.”

Allura inclined her head regally at Shiro’s suggestion, the two of them catching each other’s eye for just a moment but Hunk could definitely see the blush that colored Shiro’s face.

When everything was all over, he was going to lock them in a room so they could figure themselves out.

“You all have your orders.” Allura called, her voice making Hunk jump, “Now go!”

Hunk jumped into an immediate salute, the aggressive tone of Allura’s voice triggering old muscle memory. Embarrassed by his action, Hunk jogged from the room, footsteps heavy against the metal of the castle’s floors. He flew through his access bay, thanking every lucky star he had that he had finally figured out how to get to his Lion in a timely manner, the air from his zip line making his hair wave wildly, helmet securely stored in Yellow’s cockpit.

They were really doing this. They were going to get Lance back!

He wasted no time in getting to Yellow, his gentle Lion opening her mouth and letting him inside, lights glowing a soft, soothing gold. She purred at him, her consciousness running alongside his in comfort and excitement.

The cockpit blazed to life as he entered, snagging his helmet from his seat and pulling it onto his head before he sat down, controls humming under his hands. With a gentle nudge, Yellow leapt to her feet, the doors of the hangar opening at her approach. The coms blazed to life, Pidge’s face appearing on his left hand screen. “I don’t know if you got them or not but here are the coordinates that Liyana left us.”

The string of number scrolled across his navigation system, the coordinates inputting themselves quickly, Yellow giving a burst of acknowledgement across their bond. “Yeah. That’s kind of important.” Hunk said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You were too embarrassed about the salute thing, huh?” Pidge replied, a snicker leaving her, “Don’t feel bad man, when she sneaks up on me I do the same thing. I caught Lance doing it at like one in the morning once when Allura caught him raiding the fridge.”

“That was Lance?” Hunk whined, “I thought Coran had stolen my pudding!”

“No, that was definitely Coran.” Pidge added, the sound of Coran shrieking about betrayal making its way through the com, Pidge’s giggles helping to soothe the nerves that had begun to sneak up on Hunk.

“Tell him he owes me another one.”

Pidge relayed the information before her eyes turned serious. “Be careful out there, Hunk. I don’t trust her.”

“I know.” Hunk sighed, “But I have a hunch that she’s not going to turn on us.”

“A hunch?”

“Yeah.” Hunk smiled, giving Pidge a thumbs up, “You be careful too. Bring Lance back to the castle for me. I have a best hug in the universe to give him.”

“Well, I have a face punching quota to meet for the day so you might need to get in line.” Pidge smirked, her eyes serious, “And don’t worry, Hunk. We’ll bring him back.”

Hunk nodded, the com going quiet once more, only the silence of space and Yellow’s humming purr greeting him. He led Yellow through the darkness of space, the swirling mass of the planet below him pulling at Yellow’s paws. They navigated away, sitting quietly at the coordinates that Liyana had indicated.

He was only waiting for a moment before a huge purple warship flashed into existence before him, the sheer size of it pulling a squeak from Hunk’s throat. He was going to have to fight one of those? By himself?

A com opened up on Yellow’s screen once more, Liyana’s face appearing, her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Yellow Paladin?” She queried, the darkness of the chair behind her making her fur stand out in sharp contrast.

“The name’s Hunk.” He said cheerfully, “I’m the one they sent. Well, more like I kind of volunteered, but you know…”

“Hunk.” She said slowly, eyebrows furrowing at his half-rambled response, “You are not quite who I was expecting given the virulence of your tirade against me.”

“Well, I figured you seemed pretty sincere in wanted to help us.” Hunk shrugged, “And I’m reasonably sure you’re not going to betray us.”

“What gives you that idea?” Liyana said sharply, the bustle of the bridge behind her making Hunk nervous.

“Well, you contacted us first and gave us that warning. If you really didn’t want us to succeed you would have just let us run into a trap.” Hunk shrugged, “And I’m like 90% sure you’re Keith’s mom.”

Her half-amused expression dropped abruptly, eyes widening. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Like right now. You guys have the exact same ‘I’m trying to hide something but I really suck at doing emotions’ face. I see it on Keith all the time.” Hunk said smugly, “Plus, you guys look really similar. Like I don’t think the others really see it yet but I’m kind of a face person. And Keith looks just like you. If he were all the way purple, I’m sure it would be way more obvious.”

Liyana gave a half-stifled laugh, the sound dangerously similar to a sob. “Twenty years.” She chuckled, “It’s been almost twenty years since I had to leave Earth. And I’m figured out five minutes into a conversation with a human. Please, don’t tell him.”

“Oh my quiznack, you are his mom.” Hunk gasped, “And why not? He deserves to know! He’s been searching for you since he went to the Blade!”

“He went to the Blade?” She demanded, the expression on her face now reminding Hunk uncomfortably of his mom when she caught him sneaking pudding from the fridge.

“Uh yeah. They discovered his knife, well, your knife I guess, and made him do this trial thing. The way Shiro put it, he made it through a bunch of the levels before Red started attacking and they had to leave. He activated it and everything. It’s a pretty badass sword.”

Liyana chuckled wetly, covering her eyes with one hand. “I am going to kill Kolivan the next time I see him. If you figured out that he was my kit so quickly, I’m sure he knew.”

“But still, Keith needs to know.” Hunk said earnestly, “He has questions. He doesn’t even know who you are!”

“It’s probably for the best that he doesn’t.” Liyana replied, her tears fading, “Like you said before. One does not simply abandon family. And I did.”

Hunk looked at her sharply, Yellow giving him a questioning purr. “If you really abandoned him for no reason, I would make sure I kept him as far away from you as possible. But something tells me that that wasn’t the case.” He reprimanded, the Galra narrowing her eyes at him, “I won’t push because honestly, that’s a conversation between you and Keith, but it’s a conversation that needs to happen.”

With a heavy sigh, Liyana dropped her chin into one hand, closing her eyes for a moment as she gathered herself. “I will…consider it. After we retrieve your paladin.” Liyana granted, eyes flicking to the side of her bridge carefully.

“Is it really safe for you to be talking to me right now?” Hunk said curiously, cocking his head to the side, “You’re kind of out in the middle of your bridge right now.”

“The members of my ship are either loyal to me or other members of the Blade.” Liyana replied simply, her business-like attitude returning, “I am in no danger by communicating with you. Now, do you understand what it is we’ll be doing?”

“Tricking the other ships into moving close enough to the Drax- something or other that they get pulled into his gravitational pull?” Hunk guessed, Yellow laughing at him across the bond, “Seems like a pretty solid plan.”

“That is the simple version, yes.” Liyana mused, tapping a clawed finger on the armrest of her chair, “Basically, what I need you to do is act as bait. Show yourself in front of the other battleships and lead them back to me. I will use my ship and its particle barrier to ram the other ships into the atmosphere’s pull. It’s a dangerous job, for both of us, but it’s the best we could come up with on such short notice.”

Clicking his tongue in thought, Hunk sat back in his pilot’s seat, Yellow’s consciousness curling around his own. “What if, instead of simply showing myself, I pretend to be attacking all of you? I can actually shoot at the others but you can act as if you’re trying to crush Yellow between the two ships. It would make it more believable in case one of the ships tries to contact you. I know the Blade puts a lot of importance on the covers you guys come up with.”

“That is very generous of you, Hunk, but at this point, we can safely assume that my cover is blown.” Liyana chuckled, “But your plan has merit. If the other ships are distracted by your legitimate attack, they will not be expecting my assault. They will also have their own particle barriers up and that will make it easier to ram into them without causing undue damage to my own ship.”

Hunk nodded at her, a glow of pride at her words. He wasn’t really the plan guy but something that he’d come up with was useful!

“Now that we’ve settled that, we should get started. The other battleships are on their way here now, a few ticks closer to the rest of the fleet than we are. They should be within sight range at any moment. When I give you the signal, fire upon them. I’ll engage my particle barrier and the others will likely do the same. It will be your job to tempt them closer to this position, in whatever way you deem best.” Liyana instructed, the clarity of her instructions definitely making Hunk see how she had made it so high in the ranks of the Galra’s military.

She certainly knew what she was doing.

Keith’s mom was a badass.

Nodding his assent at the waiting commander, Hunk waited patiently for her signal, the glowing purple battleships making their way closer at a snail’s pace, the slowness grating on Hunk’s nerves. Weren’t these people military? Where was their hustle, the urgency to carry out orders? Even in the short time he’d spent at the Garrison, Hunk knew there was a rank and file that came with being in the military.

The way these ships crawled forward was almost…disrespectful. It was like they didn’t care for Lotor’s orders and only moved because they would be punished for disobedience. Were all of Lotor’s forces like this? He sent an incredulous look to the open com between the Yellow Lion and Liyana, barely suppressing a snort when he saw her with her head thrown back against her chair, a groan of frustration evident in her posture.

This was a common occurrence apparently.

“It’s rough then?” Hunk joked, lifting an eyebrow.

Liyana sighed heavily, her head moving back to its previous position. “You have no idea.”

Hunk looked back to the encroaching battleships, their approach much quicker than it had been before. He wrapped his hands tightly around Yellow’s controls, letting her purrs of encouragement steady him. “Oh good, they saw you. Get ready.” Liyana said lightly, the tone of her voice making Hunk bark out an anxious laugh.

“You know, I’m technically an engineer.” Hunk rambled, panicking now that the battleships were gaining on him, “This Lion is the only thing I’ve ever piloted.”

“Well, this will be good experience for you.” Liyana returned, her eyes turning steely, “Now, Hunk! Give them hell!”

Yellow jumped forward under his hands, a thrill of exhilaration traveling along her consciousness and into Hunk’s. Yellow loved to fly and this was something she didn’t typically get to do. She wasn’t as fast as her Red and Blue sisters or as stealthy as her Green sister. Her Black sister was more deadly but Yellow was sturdy above all. She had faith in Hunk’s ability to pilot her and she made it clear as they flew at the incoming battleships, her sheer exuberance driving Hunk forward.

They flew between the battleships craftily, avoiding the shots they could and taking the ones they couldn’t, Yellow’s armor making it easier for her to take the hits. Their twisting pattern pulled the battleships closer to Liyana, her particle barrier flaring into life as she waited just long enough for the Yellow Lion to get out of the way before ramming her way into two other battleships.

They ricocheted away from her, the planet’s powerful gravitational pull sucking them into the storms that were raging in the atmosphere. Liyana’s crow of triumph rang in Hunk’s ears and he let out a whoop, diving Yellow past another ship, the deafening crash of Liyana’s battleship and it particle barrier meeting another of Lotor’s ships drowning out the beeping of his com.

Hunk fired at another ship, the blasts shaving great swaths of hull away from the unprotected battleship. A particle barrier blazed into life just in time for Liyana to slam into the damaged ship, the collision of the two barriers making the ships bounce off one another, Lotor’s ship flying into the Drax’s atmosphere while Liyana barely missed the Yellow Lion, a mass of snarled swears making Hunk eyebrows fly up.

A view screen popped up on Yellow’s right screen, a panicked Pidge showing up. “Hunk, come in!” She screeched, laser fire in the background making her voice nearly inaudible, “The plan has to change! Lotor redirected his fleet last minute and he just jettisoned the Red Lion. We think he’s trying to destroy her! We need you to come back and get her out of here!”

Hunk’s previous exuberance faded abruptly, Liyana’s face going a weird shade of lavender on the other screen. “He’s trying to cripple Voltron.” She breathed, fingers tapping over the keys in front of her, “Go, Hunk! There are only a few more battleships in this sector. With any luck, they’ll be distracted by the ships we already lured in. It won’t give you much time, but it might be enough.”

“I got it.” He said, determination furrowing his brow, “Hold on, Pidge. I’m on my way!”

With a snarl, Yellow coiled herself under his controls, ready to leap forward.

They had a Lion to rescue.

~~~~

Haggar strode through the empty hallways of Lotor’s ship with purpose, several druids following behind her, their equally silent footsteps moving them through the ship. The absence of guards was unnerving, the lack of resistance making Haggar uneasy.

With a warrior like the Blue Paladin on board, could Lotor really afford to have such lax security?

This was precisely why one of her own pupils had perished at the hands of the Blue Paladin. Haggar clenched her teeth in anger, the sudden appearance of a room absolutely awash with blue quintessence drawing her attention.

Without warning, she changed her direction, phasing through doors and empty hallways in an effort to close in on this well of tranquility. It was likely that she would find the Blue Paladin at the heart of it.

She drew to a stop at the door, a blank canvas that gave no clues as to what hid on the other side. Wrinkling her nose in distaste, Haggar opened the door with a wave of her hand, the lights of the room blazing to life at her approach. Her footsteps made no sound as she strode within, rage welling up in her as she took in the body splayed across the floor, Galran blood thick on the metal. The other druids filed in behind her, snarls echoing from behind their masks as they took in the form of one of their own still sprawled on the floor, body left in a pool of their own blood.

Haggar knelt beside the corpse of Thordis, brusquely moving the body out of the blood and inspecting the damage done. As she looked over the blaster marks, she clicked her tongue. Had she been present at the time of the injuries, there would have been a chance but it was far too late now. She snapped her fingers at one of the other druids, the young Galra leaping to her command. “Take Thordis back to the ship. We’ll give them a proper send off when we return with the Blue Paladin.”

The druid bowed to her command before disappearing with the body, the briefest wisp of quintessence betraying their departure. Wiping her hand idly on the bottom of her robes, Haggar turned back to the rest of the room, the blue quintessence within it making her hunger for its source.

Pain had happened here. The sweet taste of fear and agony mixed with blue quintessence until Haggar could nearly mull it over her tongue, her own quintessence sparking at her fingertips. She could taste Thordis’ work, the careful shaping of the Blue Paladin to Lotor’s whims.

It was an imprudent endeavor and likely something that would come back to haunt them, just as it had led to Thordis’ death. Haggar was no fool. She was aware that there were many prizes in Lotor’s past who had become too dangerous to remain, his demented ideals of beauty shaping them into weapons far beyond their previous capacity.

She turned to the screens along the wall, bringing them into glaring life with a wave of her hand. It would be wise to understand what Lotor had ordered done to this new “prize” of his. His shaping could prove to be a detriment to the empire and Haggar would not bring a weapon back with her onto Zarkon’s main ship.

He was still too fragile, too weak from Voltron’s previous successes.

No. If she brought the Blue Paladin to him, the boy would be broken beyond all hope of repair. And if Lotor had truly turned him into a weapon, she would _use_ him, shackling him with far greater restraints than she had ever dreamed of with the Champion.

The druids swarmed closer to her, gathering around like a flock of children. The thought brought a sardonic smile to her face and she let them come even closer, a twisted sense of maternal pride blossoming in her chest.

She had trained them so well.

They scanned the lines of code in front of her, Thordis’ writings carefully structured as to give a detailed report on how they had changed the Blue Paladin. With every line, Haggar’s expression grew tighter, a deep sense of possession pulling at her.

Lotor had made this paladin _glorious_. And all with aesthetic purposes, never with an intention of utilizing him to further the Galra Empire or turn him against his fellow paladins.

It was infuriating.

The Blue Paladin was much fiercer than the last time she had seen him, it seemed. Thordis had given him fangs and claws, suitable beginning weapons for a Galra warrior. There were strange things thrown in as well, the ears and eye scales of an Altean, for example. Her own markings tingled against her skin and she frowned, an old pride for her abandoned people taking offense for Lotor’s daring.

There were also the quintessence tattoos that Lotor had ordered. The patterns were quite beautiful, from an objective perspective, the paladin’s own quintessence making them ebb and flow like the waters that the Blue Lion was associated with. They would also shift with his emotional state, making it difficult for him to conceal his feelings. That was a feature that Haggar knew she could manipulate. It would also make it easier to corrupt him later on. His quintessence was at the surface of his skin now, a direct conduit to the center of his being.

It wouldn’t take much to bend him to her will.

Haggar read on, a sense of pride in her pupil making her grin wickedly. Thordis had truly proven themselves as a skilled druid in the shaping of this paladin. While the emotional aspect of the tattoos had been a stroke of genius, an addition that Lotor had not previously asked of them, it was the changes Thordis made at the cellular level that left Haggar impressed.

Human DNA was exceptionally adaptable.

She counted no less than four other species that Thordis had managed to splice into the Blue Paladin’s DNA, a feat that Haggar congratulated them for, post mortem though it was.

There was Galra in there, definitely, much of the work they had done focused on tying Galra DNA into the paladin but there were also strains of Altean, the few bits she managed to focus on clearly matching the coded DNA Haggar had contributed to their database herself.

How quaint. The paladin shared DNA with his greatest enemy.

There were the two other species that Haggar didn’t recognize but it made no matter. She had what she needed.

All she needed now was to get her hands on the Blue Paladin.

She would mold him into the greatest weapon the Galra Empire had ever seen. He would be helpless to resist her, half-broken from the tortures Lotor had inflicted and susceptible to the bite of her own quintessence. He would be the one to break Voltron, their own Heart twisted and come back to harm them.

Turning away from the screen, Haggar looked to the masked faces of her druids, the young Galra looking to her with a twisted form of adoration. They would do anything she asked of them.

“Go find the Blue Paladin. I don’t care who you have to kill to get him for me.” Haggar ordered, “That includes Lotor. Zarkon has been growing tired of his son’s insolence.”

They bowed as one, beginning to surge from the room like the tide. It didn’t take long for the sounds of struggle to echo from the hallway. At first, Haggar paid it no mind. Her druids were more than enough for a few of Lotor’s badly trained, frightened foot soldiers.

Even giving them that title made Haggar scoff. Lotor’s forces were the refuse of the Galra Empire. If you weren’t good enough to serve under Zarkon, you were sent to Lotor.

It was the ultimate insult.

Haggar busied herself with continuing to read over Thordis’ notes, drawing a plan together in the back of her mind. It wasn’t until she heard the characteristic hum of a druid-made weapon activating that she paid the scuffle outside any kind of attention.

She knew that noise. She had made the weapon capable of making that noise.

_Champion._

Phasing through the door and into the hallway beyond, Haggar appeared behind the line of her druids, their efforts to subdue the three members of Team Voltron not proving fruitful.

“Well, this is an auspicious day.” Haggar called, watching as the three of them froze at the sound of her words.

The princess stepped forward, subtly edging herself in front of the Champion, his onyx eyes narrowed in his fury. “Haggar.” She said simply, lifting her chin regally.

She suppressed the urge to tear out the Altean princess’s throat, the memory of their previous battle making a challenging smirk cross her face. “The Altean princess, an awakening half-breed, and our beloved Champion, all at once.” Haggar sniffed, firmly ignoring the princess, “And to think, I had only come here to steal away your Blue Paladin.”

“We won’t let that happen!” The half-breed snarled, flashing his fangs at her.

She looked down on his intimidation attempt haughtily. He hadn’t even fully switched yet and he thought to frighten her? Laughable.

“You truly think you can stop me?” Haggar cackled, “No. You will all join him. The Champion returned to us, the princess put in chains, and the mated pair returned to each other, a future as weapons stretching out in front of them.”

“Mated pair? What are you even talking about?” He hissed, the other druids looking at him askance.

Haggar’s grin grew wider and she flashed behind the half-breed paladin, the fur on the back of his neck standing straight up. “Do you really not know?” She whispered, her breath at his ear making him shudder.

He turned suddenly, signature red blade slashing through the air as if to rend her from shoulder to hip. She danced away from his bayard, her cackling laugh filling the hallway. “Take them!”

“Not today!” The Champion roared, surging after the closest druid, his glowing hand tearing at his enemy.

He was truly a force of nature.

It would be good to have him back again.

The swipe of red blade brought her attention firmly back to the fight, the half-breed’s features creeping higher up his face. “How does it feel to finally reflect your heritage, half-breed?” She taunted, sliding out of the way of his sloppy strikes.

“Shut up!” He spat at her, reaching behind his back and pulling another blade, this one much darker than his bayard, a glowing purple symbol at its hilt.

As she watched, it lengthened into a proper sword, its familiar shape pulling at her recollection. Her eyes narrowed as she recognized it at last. That sword belonged to the same order of spies and assassins that had accompanied the princess when she attacked Zarkon.

Their duel continued, the half-breed proving his competence at last, both swords narrowly missing Haggar. She was forced to move in ways that she hadn’t in centuries, all in the hopes of dragging him farther away from his two companions.

If she took the half-breed first, finding the Blue Paladin would be infinitely easier. No one tracked others down quite like separated mates.

The Red Paladin followed after her bait handily, his angry slashes and stabs taking him further down the hall from the princess and the Champion, their teamwork proving to be difficult for her druids to overcome.

A brief flicker of doubt entered her mind but she brushed it off. Her druids were strong, far stronger than the fledgling quintessence abilities of the Altean princess.

They would not fall to her or the Champion.

Falling ever further into her trap, the half-breed followed her down the hallway, his frustration growing with every failed hit.

When she had deemed him far enough away from his companions, she struck, quintessence sparking alongside her claws. They raked at his side, shrieking against his armor and sliding through his flight suit like butter.

He cried out hoarsely, striking out at her instinctively. Focused as she was on inflicting pain, she wasn’t fast enough to avoid the wide blow and she sucked in a breath through gritted teeth as the blade bit deep into her hip, the acrid smell of their blood filling the air.

“Guess we’re one for one.” The Red Paladin smirked, Galra features spreading further up his face.

“Do not get too confident, mutt.” Haggar sneered, slicing forward once more with her claws.

The paladin leapt back, almost fearful of her claws. His blade left her hip abruptly, the pain making her list to the side.

This was not going according to plan.

She retreated further down the hallway, the paladin pursuing her with single-minded determination. As soon as he drew close, she let a burst of quintessence leave her hand, the force behind it throwing the half-breed far down the hall.

A hum made her glance back and she barely dodged out of the range of the Champion’s attack, his face curled into an expression of intense determination.

“Keith, go!” he ordered, the half-breed freezing at his command.

“Shiro, I’m not going to leave you behind! Especially not with her here!” He protested hotly, halfway climbing to his feet.

“We came here to get Lance!” The Champion replied, authority in his voice, “Allura and I can handle things there! Go find him! No one else is going to be able to!”

Haggar snarled as the two paladins spoke over her, lashing out with her claws at the Champion before her.

A dull clang sounded as her claws met the side of a traditional Altean staff, the princess staring her down with furious magenta and cyan eyes.

“I will not let you harm any more of my paladins, witch.” Allura said simply, the staff barely budging under Haggar’s claws.

“Your paladins. My, how possessive.” Haggar baited, “You must quite distraught that Lotor has ruined one of your toys. Just like old times…”

“The Blue Paladin is not a toy and he does not belong to anyone!” Allura roared, batting Haggar away, the Champion and the half-breed staring at her in awe.

‘Your half-breed may be inclined to disagree.” Haggar laughed, facing off once more with the Altean princess.

Zarkon’s witch set her shoulders, conscious of her downed druids and the fleeing half-breed paladin. Team Voltron may have conquered the others but she would not fail.

Quintessence sparked at her fingertips and Haggar gave a sarcastic bow to her new foes.

They had best prepared themselves.

They were in a fight for their lives.

~~~~

Lance slumped against the side of Lotor’s chair, body limp and eyes dull. Even the glow of his tattoos were dimmed, spirit cowed into submission.

He couldn’t speak and simply breathing made his chest ache, broken rib clearly making itself known.

The idea of doing much more than lying on the cool floor of the bridge made him mentally shrink back, remembrance of the other feature of his collar taming his fire.

It had hurt so badly.

Worse than the tattoos, worse than the Skaridia. It had felt like his body was actively trying to tear itself apart at the seams. For a while after the pain had finally eased, he’d felt over his limbs with his hands, almost convinced that he’d truly lost them.

A tugging pulled him from his thoughts and he stared straight ahead, unwilling to move. It was silent in the bridge, all the guards sent away one some unknown errand, leaving him alone with the prince.

Lotor was petting him again, sharp claws pulling uncomfortably at his hair.

Fear kept him still, even with the yanking and Lance focused his eyes on the windows that looked out over the stars that he loved so much.

It had only been a few days but he yearned for the freedom of open space, the feeling of flying through the cosmos making him ache for Blue.

He missed her presence so much, her soothing waves giving him the strength and determination to press on even when things felt impossible.

It was something he could really use right now. Ever since Lotor had engaged the other feature of the collar, Lance hadn’t been able to feel Keith at all. The place where his consciousness sat was empty, a yawning void that sapped Lance of his strength.

It would be so much easier to give in, wouldn’t it? The pain would go away.

The thought danced around his brain, intrusive and uncomfortable. The very fiber of his being rebelled against the idea but it was wearing away at his defenses.

And Lance was so very tired.

Over the days he’d been here, he’d had fitful sleep, very little to drink, and next to nothing to eat. Hunger clawed at his belly and he curled deeper into himself, careful not to jostle the chain held in Lotor’s hand.

He didn’t want the Prince’s attention.

Despite his best efforts, Lotor still peered down at him, a wide smile stretching his face. “Aw, what’s the matter, pet? No enjoying yourself?” He cooed, fingers pulling harshly on Lance’s hair.

Lance winced at the pressure on his skull, hands fisting in the material of his pants. He wouldn’t give Lotor more than he had to, a spark of rebellion thriving in his chest.

He knew that Voltron was still out there.

Lotor would have thrown their destruction in his face at the first opportunity.

Until that happened, Lance wouldn’t give up that spark. He would hold on.

He let the spark fill him for just a moment, Red’s weakening growls running alongside his consciousness. His tattoos flashed the color of Keith’s armor, the hue pulling a possessive growl from the Prince above him.

Lance flinched back when Lotor pulled him up by the collar, teeth bared in a snarl. “Do not flash your defiance at me, pet. You’re _mine._ ” He hissed, “I don’t want to see his color in your skin any more. The sooner you submit to me, the easier this will all be.”

Satisfied that his point had been made, Lotor released him abruptly, the lack of tension making him fall to the floor. Lance grit his teeth as the motion jostled his ribs, the blinding pain suddenly magnified.

He curled into himself tightly, feeling as if claws had raked their way across his damaged ribs. Prodding at the skin, Lance looked down, alarmed to find his skin perfectly intact. He waited for a moment before flinching when a phantom sensation of pain lit up his back.

What was happening to him?

He tapped at his collar hesitantly but no more pain came. Chancing a look backwards, Lance found Lotor fiddling with one of his control panels, a smug grin on his face. He glanced up at Lance’s gaze, smile only growing wider. “You really are my greatest work, little lion.” Lotor said softly, thumb coming to rest on Lance’s chin, “So much was changed and yet you still function. Humans are quite a hardy species, aren’t they? And your DNA is so malleable! It’s a good thing too. Without that fact, you might have already perished.”

Lance’s eyes widened at Lotor’s words, heart pounding in his chest.

What was Lotor talking about? What else did he do to him? What was there that he couldn’t see?

Lotor watched Lance panic impassively, resting the tip of his thumb claw against Lance’s bottom lip.

“Humans really are so susceptible to the Skaridia. It is a shame really. Your body had starting breaking down at the chromosomal level, your repair functions beyond help. We were forced to fix the damage with what we had on hand, gene wise.” Lotor relayed idly, digging the tip of his claw into the soft skin of Lance’s lip, “And we’ve never had a human on board.”

The tattoos in Lance’s skin turned a sickly yellow green as Lotor’s explanation, his hands trembling as he held himself up.

He wasn’t…completely human anymore.

The claw on his lip retreated, Lotor huffing out a laugh. “That’s right, pet. You are a proper monster now. A hybrid of no less than four other species.” He said proudly, “It’s a shame you killed that druid. They could have done great things for me.”

Lance looked down at his hands, heart thudding in his chest. He didn’t look like any of the other species did he? Did he still look human?

Would his family even recognize him by the time he made it home?

Would they be afraid of him?

An aborted sob left him and he looked up at Lotor fiercely, hatred burning in his chest. His tattoos deadened, the faintest of black glowing from his skin as the emotion filled him. Lotor did this to him. Everything was at his order.

The moment that Lance had the opportunity, he was going to fucking ruin him.

Lotor leaned down towards him, skating his fingers alongside Lance’s jaw. “I think I like that look on you, Lance.”

Lance bared his teeth at the Prince in front of him, the fangs he had been given glinting in the dull light. Lotor only smirked, hand moving so quickly that Lance didn’t have a chance to react. A sharp pain lit up the side of Lance’s face, the momentum knocking him to the floor.

He laid there in shock for an instant before one hand came up to his stinging cheek. Lotor just slapped him!

The force of the hit made his head ring and he laid still, jewelry shifting against his hated collar. He was about to move it away, when something clicked in the back of his head, Keith’s presence rushing back into the void that had been left over.

Relief flooded him, the tension in his body releasing.

Keith was _alive_.

He frowned at his own response, laying against the floor, glow of his tattoos making him clench his eyes shut. Was it always this intense, this whole mate thing?

Because it was going to turn into a problem, fast. How were they supposed to do missions for Voltron when being separated from each other turned them into this mess? How were they supposed to get out of the situation they were in when they were this frantic for each other?

A sigh lifted Lance’s shoulders and he winced when the movement made his ribs twinge painfully. He felt an echo of pain from Keith’s side of the bond, his own relief somehow more all-encompassing than Lance’s.

Keith must have really thought he was dead.

If Lotor had listened to that commander, he probably would have been.

Lance internally shook his head, focusing on the bond between himself and Keith. He probably wouldn’t ever see the Galra woman who tried to kill him. Not in person anyway. She would be left behind when they got him out.

If they got him out.

A flash of anger came from Keith and Lance suppressed a chuckle. His mulleted love was getting upset with him. He could only imagine the kinds of arguments they would get into now because of this bond. A grin stretched his face at the idea of them having silent arguments.

A prod of confusion came from the bond at Lance’s amusement, a sense of disbelief emanating from Keith. As Lance tried to suppress his silent laughter at Keith’s welcome emotion, a trickle of Blue trailed alongside his consciousness, his beautiful Lion pulling his attention away from the fiery paladin he’d fallen for.

They fit back together like puzzle pieces, her tranquility washing over him like a waterfall. His anxiety eased under her gentle consciousness, love and relief radiating from her. A few tears slipped past his lids and he let her embrace his mind, returning all of her emotions with as much intensity as he could.

He could feel Keith, his presence almost awkward as Lance reconnected with Blue. If he’d been there in person, he’d have been anxiously stepping between his feet, trying not to look too out of place.

It was adorable.

He pulled Keith into his reunion, letting Red’s weakening pull wrap around his mind as well, the surprise and relief in Keith’s side of the bond worth the awkwardness of having two Lions in his head. The feelings at the end of the Red bond turned abruptly to alarm and Lance flashed his eyes open, looking out into the great beyond of space.

In the moments Lance had spent reconnecting with his mate and his Lion, Lotor had been busy. A sea of purple ships filled the previously clear window, a pale speck of red just barely visible in the center of them all. Lance looked back to the mad Prince, the grin on his face making Lance’s blood run cold, tattoos darkening to a dull blue-gray. “I’m so glad you decided to perk up once more, pretty pet. You were about to miss the show.” Lotor laughed, “How many shots do you think it will take to destroy the Red Lion?”

Panic filled him, eyes turning back to the furiously fighting Red Lion outside the ship. Distress blared from Keith and Lance reached out to Blue, desperation driving him further into their bond than he ever had before. The rush of her element danced through his veins and his eyes rolled up in his head, vision going double for a moment as he saw through her eyes.

It was just as Coran had described in their very first few days of training. Pilot and Lion were one and a roar pulled itself from their throat.

They bolted from their hangar, the restrictions that had kept them from their other half gone. However, a different type of urgency drove them now. Their sister was in danger.

They broadcasted distress along the link they shared with their other sisters, Green and Yellow responding immediately. Green’s paladin- _precious tiny friend_ \- flew to Red’s side, plowing her way through many of the ships despite Green’s diminutive size.

Blue purred in thanks when the Green Paladin reached out to the Yellow Paladin _\- strong dependable soul brother_ \- his response instantaneous. They would not let their sister fall.

Red reached out along the link, her damaged systems just recovered enough to rejoin the bond between all the lions. Black’s regretful roar made Blue fly even faster, desperation to recover their sister pushing them to speeds they had never reached while technically unpiloted.

They reached the fleet just behind Yellow, ignoring the surprise and anxiety from the Green and Yellow Paladins. Ice flew from their mouth, sheering away at the ships that threatened their damaged sister. It was beyond what they had been capable of before and the part of Blue that was Lance reveled in the knowledge.

His bond with his Lion was stronger than ever and they would continue to grow together, despite the damage he had suffered at Lotor’s hands. Blue didn’t judge him for what was done to him, her consciousness nuzzling him close as if he were a kitten. He basked in her love and support, the spark of rebellion in his chest flaring into a fully-fledged fire.  As he watched Yellow swoop in and carry Red off through his Lion’s eyes, he let out a sigh of relief, holding on just long enough to feel as Blue flew away from the fleet, leading them on a merry chase back to where Hunk had been before.

The connection faded back to its previous intensity and he could feel awe and thankfulness from Keith’s side of the bond. Lance let himself dwell in the emotions rolling off the Red Paladin for a moment before there was a sharp tug at the collar around his neck. “It seems your friends are here, little lion.” Lotor said confidently, breath at Lance’s ear making the paladin shudder with disgust, “I wonder how long they’ll hold out against my fleet. There are hundreds of ships out there after all. Maybe if you submit to me, I’ll let them go. Tell me about your precious Voltron and I’ll let them live.”

Lance sat up, defiance on the tip of his silent tongue when there was the slightest flash of red from beyond the slightly ajar doors, his previous damage to the control room keeping them from closing all the way.

A wild hope filled his veins when he caught sight of a pair of violet eyes, sclera tinted a weak gold and purple creeping over a sharp nose and high cheekbones.

Even with purple skin and sharply fluffed ears, he’d recognize his Keith anywhere.

Their eyes met for a moment and Keith’s lips parted in a gasp, hands curling around the edges of the partially opened door. Lance’s eyebrows furrowed in concern when the doors gave an aborted movement at Keith’s effort, the slightest bit of noise echoing through the throne room.

Opening those doors wouldn’t be quiet. Lotor would see Keith before he would have any time to prepare. And if Keith wasn’t prepared, it might be a fight that he would lose.

Lotor was far faster and craftier than the Galra soldiers Keith often mowed down with impunity.

No, to beat this foe, they would need a distraction.

And thanks to Disney, Lance had the perfect idea. He sent a pulse of caution along the bond to his mate, watching at Keith paused at the emotion, watching the proceedings with a sharp eye, apprehension filling his own side of the bond.

Steeling himself, Lance bowed his head slightly, turning to look up at Lotor with resigned eyes. The Prince lifted a single eyebrow at him, amusement bright in his sickly yellow gaze. “What’s this? Finally some obedience?”

Lance turned his body fully, sitting up on his knees so that he was closer to Lotor, carefully keeping an increasingly apprehensive Keith in his peripheral vision. He lifted his chin, baring his throat to the Galra in front of him. The prince growled out a chuckle, Keith’s anger flaring in the back of Lance’s mind. “I see that you’re finally understanding your place around here, aren’t you pet?”

He held himself still as Lotor leaned forward, the prince taking his sweet time in skating the tips of his claws over the tip of Lance’s ear and down his jaw, hovering tauntingly over the collar at Lance’s throat. “You know what will happen to you if this turns out like last time, don’t you Lance? This time I won’t stop at a broken bone. I have healing pods on board this ship, pretty prize. I could beat you half to death and still bring you back, just as prettily perfect as before. So choose your words wisely.”

The collar over his throat bobbed as he swallowed, fear mixing with the determination in his chest. The tattoos in his skin glowed a pretty purple and Lotor hummed in approval, pressing his fingers against the interactive surface of the front of Lance’s collar.

The vibrations in his throat tapered off slowly, their absence making his throat feel sore and overused. He let himself bask in the relief for a moment, letting his eyes stay closed for a few moments longer than he really should.

His headache eased just slightly with the absence of the vibrations and he took a shallow breath, his broken rib still paining him. He opened his mouth, taking care to look Lotor in the eye, willing whatever infatuation the Prince had with him to be stronger than the noise of Keith opening the door.

“I’ve learned my lesson.” Lance said hoarsely, voice breaking briefly before it recovered itself, “I know that if I give myself over, I can save them.”

Lotor’s grin turned triumphant and he twined the chain connected to Lance’s collar around his fingers. “Good boy.” He crooned, “I knew you would come around eventually.”

Okay, that was an opening Lance could work with.

“How could I not?” Lance replied, pitching his voice low and leaning closer into Lotor’s space, “You’re such a lovely example of the beauty of space…”

The emotions from Keith’s side of the bond hit him like a punch to the gut and he radiated apology, feeling sick to his stomach at the heavy look Lotor was sending him.

Ugh, Jasmine had made this look so easy.

“My, such passion. Well, go on then, little lion. Tell me more.” Lotor purred, fingertips pressing lightly into Lance’s chin.

His mind blanked for a moment and he struggled. What the hell could he say to this psychopath?

Shit.

Fighting back a snicker, he recalled Jasmine’s lines and curled his hands over the arms of Lotor’s chair, motioning at Keith with one finger.

“You’re tall…” Lance hummed, letting his eyes pretend to rove Lotor’s form even as he pulled insistently on the bond between him and Keith, Keith’s emotions seeming to yo-yo between hurt and anger, “And your armor is so finely made.”

Realization blazed from Keith’s side of the bond and he leapt into action, pulling on one side of the doors as quietly as he dared, a low hum of jealousy and anger buzzing at the back of Lance’s mind. Lance sent him another quick burst of apology, his disgust for what he was doing making itself abundantly clear to his mate.

“I do so like when you compliment me, pretty pet.” Lotor chuckled, leaning even further into Lance’s space.

Forcing himself not to recoil, Lance swallowed harshly, trying to convey a sense of urgency to the paladin currently fighting with the door. He really did not want to play this scene all the way out.

“Your hair is beautiful, so very thick and shiny.” Lance continued, mentally shuddering at the words coming out of his mouth, “To see such a warrior with a handicap is awe-inspiring.”

Said hair slid over Lotor’s shoulder as he narrowed the gap between them once more, his breath oddly sweet in Lance’s face.

Please, please let Keith hurry.

His anxiety must have transmitted itself to the Red Paladin because his previous caution evaporated and a loud grind came from the door. Lotor’s head started to turn and Lance panicked, hands flying up to catch his face and press their lips together.

Keith’s end of the bond erupted in fire and Lance mentally recoiled, instead sending back the overwhelming nausea and discomfort that swamped him.

Lotor had hesitated for only a moment before pressing back against Lance, the paladin resisting the urge to hurl in the Galra’s lap. It was gross and utterly uncomfortable, the action stirring nothing in him.

It was nothing like kissing Keith. And he desperately wished he was doing that instead, especially since Keith had finally come for him.

The discomfort extended until the Prince pulled away, yellow eyes half lidded. “You really have changed your tune, haven’t you little songbird.” He mused, “The futility of your situation finally sink in? Tell me, what really made you change your mind?”

Lance let a rakish grin pull over his face, pushing his desperate need for a toothbrush to the back of his mind. “When I say Vol, you say?”

“TRON!” Keith roared, bayard slicing through the back of Lotor’s chair, catching him heavily between the plates of his armor.

Lotor hissed at the injury, looking to where the red bayard lodged itself in his shoulder before turning his eyes back to Lance. “Not a bird at all, are you Lance?” Lotor spat, “You’re a snake.”

“No.” Lance replied, climbing to his feet and baring the fangs that Lotor had ordered done, “I’m a lion.”

Yanking the end of his chain from Lotor’s nerveless fingers, Lance jumped back as Lotor grabbed for him, a growl coming from the mostly purple Keith behind the throne.

“Get out of here, Lance.” Keith snapped, an undercurrent of hurt still prevalent in their bond.

“Like hell I’m gonna leave you, mullet.” Lance smirked, the narrowing of Lotor’s eyes instinctively making him take a few more steps back, “Not with him.”

Keith glared at him over the top of Lotor’s head, dark eyes inscrutable. Lance returned his glare resolutely, crossing his arms over his bare chest with a mulish look. The tattoos in his skin still radiated that pretty purple color, a few flashes of red showing up here and there as a representation of his anger.

He really wanted Lance to leave him behind? Like hell.

“Your mate doesn’t want me anywhere near you either, pet.” Lotor chuckled, “Isn’t that right, Red Paladin? It must have been agonizing to be so far away from him.”

“I don’t know what this mate thing is that everyone keeps talking about.” Keith hissed, his confusion broadcasting loud and clear to Lance.

Lance bit his lip, the sharpness of his teeth making the action more painful that it should be. “It’s nothing that we really should talk about here.”

Keith’s gaze snapped to him again, eyes lingering on his mouth for a moment before meeting his eyes. “You know what’s going on?”

“I know the basics.” Lance nodded, “I also know that he isn’t going to let us leave without a fight.”

A dark chuckle emanated from the Galra on the throne, his claws curling over the arms. “I frequently find myself underestimating you, little Lance. So observant. Maybe I should have had them blind you.”

Chills ran down Lance’s spine at Lotor’s words and he watched in horror as the Prince yanked the sword from his shoulder and used it as leverage to hurl Keith over the back of the chair. He collided with Lance and they both tumbled to the floor, a half-stifled yelp pulling itself from both of them when they hit the floor. Through careful machination, Lance ended up on top of their little pile, gaze drawn to the glowing purple scratches on the side of Keith’s ribs.

“You’re hurt!”

“Yeah, well so are you.” Keith said gruffly, affection and relief flashing in his gaze, hands wrapped tightly around his bayard, “It doesn’t really matter now.”

“Like hell it doesn’t matter.” Lance groused, rolling off Keith quickly and pulling him to his feet, conscious of the watching eyes of the Galra Prince.

They both felt a pang of unsettlement when he laughed, rolling his injured shoulder gingerly. “I think I understand it now, Lance. The purple was never for me.” He observed, making a show of tracing the lines of Lance’s tattoos with his eyes, “It was for him. Red and Blue make purple after all.”

Lance flushed at the observation, avoiding Keith’s eyes when the other looked over at him. He jumped when he felt a hand grasp at his own, Keith’s own nascent claws gentle against his skin. Lance felt a shiver climb his spine when Keith passed his thumb over Lance’s knuckles, bringing the back of Lance’s hand to his mouth. It hit him like an electric shock when Keith pressed a kiss to the purple swirl of a tattoo that traced the back of Lance’s hand.

“Purple, huh?” Keith teased lightly, keeping Lotor in his periphery.

“Please shut up. I love you but you’re a jerk and now really is not the time.” Lance groaned, gripping at Keith’s hand tightly, “There’s got to be a way to beat him.”

“Well, if anyone could figure it out, it’d be you.” Keith said seriously, turning so that he was in front of Lance, letting his hand go almost reluctantly.

“If I could find a blaster, we could take him down together.” Lance mused, keeping his voice low and close to Keith’s fluffy ears.

God, they were so cute.

“How romantic.” Keith deadpanned, his voice making Lance want nothing more than to laugh.

Their moment broke the instant that Lotor moved, his body flowing like water. He zipped over to the ruined throne, a compartment opening for him in the side. Lance eyed it carefully, trying to see into it as Lotor pulled out a beautiful blade, the silver glinting in the dim light of the control room. “I think there might be more down in there. Keep him busy until I can get my hands on something.”

“Psh. I’ll have him down before you can get over there.” Keith challenged, a spark of something passing between them.

“I suppose I’ll have to hurry then.” Lance returned, letting Keith walk away from him, bayard held carefully at his side.

 “It truly will be an honor to kill you, Red Paladin.” Lotor purred, sword gripped almost lazily in his hand, “Imagine how great I will be amongst the Empire then? Destroyer of Voltron, slayer of the Paladins who defeated our mighty emperor. Yes, it will be quite the honor to kill you.”

“You can’t destroy Voltron.” Keith grinned, a bloodthirsty look in his eyes that made Lance a bit nervous, “And I seriously doubt you can kill me. I haven’t lost yet.”

Lance crept across the room as quietly as he could, jewelry making soft noises as he moved. He had only gotten about half-way to the throne when the telltale clash of blades made him jump. Glancing back, he saw Lotor holding off Keith’s aggressive swing, an almost bored look on his face. “If this is how you fight every opponent, I feel sorry for them. Do you have any idea how to actually use a sword?” Lotor sneered, “It isn’t a club.”

“I don’t need anything fancy.” Keith growled, “I get results and that’s what matters.”

Lance snorted quietly at Keith’s reply, the argument oddly similar to things that Coran had said to him before. He really did fight like he held a club instead of a sword sometimes.

A whip crack of irritation smacked at him over the bond and Lance schooled himself, creeping further across the room, the discordant clang of metal against metal filling the bridge. He only let himself look back once more as he drew near the throne.

His heart dropped into his feet at the scene before him.

Keith wasn’t doing well. The claw-like lacerations on his side were slowing him down, the twinge of pain communicating itself across the bond more clearly than Lance would like. On top of all that, it was clear that Lotor had some serious training. His fluid motions had no wasted movement, sword striking out frequently and with enough power that Lance could almost physically feel Keith tiring.

There was no time to waste.

Lance sprang for the chair, dropping his arm down into the compartment in an effort to find anything he could use. There were a multitude of weapons in the clever casing, daggers and other sharp implements seeming to outnumber everything else in there. His hands danced over everything, careful to keep his fingers away from the wickedly sharp edges that seemed to decorate the entirety of the inside.

Desperation clawed at him, as every second clicked by. Every moment he went without finding a weapon was another moment that Keith was fighting off Lotor by himself, the Prince’s skill overpowering Keith’s instincts and training.

Lance would never forgive himself if he didn’t find some way to help. Just as he was beginning to despair, his hands traced over a familiar shape. He pulled it out abruptly, the blaster identical to the one he had used to kill the druid and damage the control panels of the bridge.

Why would Lotor keep something like that in his throne? Another trophy?

His teeth clenched in anger, eyes dancing over the gun for any evidence of tampering. He wouldn’t put it past Lotor to dangle hope in front of him like this, only for it to be completely broken. As quickly as he dared, he put his eye to the sight, altered vision still slightly throwing him off. He pulled the trigger, heart squeezing painfully when it took a minute too long to fire.

Something was wrong all right. But not _enough_ to make it unusable.

Suppressing his cry of triumph, he turned back just in time to feel a phantom line of pain blaze over the crest of his shoulder, the burn pulling a yelp from his throat. Lotor laughed once again, his eyes locked on the paladin he had thrown to the ground, one hand clutching the wound to Keith’s shoulder. “He’ll feel everything I do to you, Red Paladin.” Lotor sang, letting the tip of his sword hover over Keith’s throat, “It’s so very tempting to draw this out. His screams are like music.”

A harsh breath pulled itself from Lance’s chest, tattoos glowing brightly as he looked at Lotor. There was no way in hell he was going to let Lotor have his way. How dare he?

How dare he put his hands on Keith?

_HE HAD NO RIGHT TO PUT HIS HANDS ON KEITH._

Blind fury singed its way through Lance and he pulled himself to his feet, blaster aiming carefully. He wouldn’t get a better chance than this. The Prince was paying him no mind, content to needle Keith about the bond between the two of them. There would be time to line up the shot. Time to protect Keith from Lotor.

Time to finally revenge himself on his captor.

A wicked grin curled across Lance’s face as he lined up the shot, Keith’s emotions in the back of his brain being pushed to the side as he concentrated. He’d get one chance to take him down.

Just one.

If he missed, Lotor would be across the bridge before Lance could blink and there’s no way that he’d be able to stop him as he was. The sharp pain in his ribs centered him, helping him to work through the headache that threatened to make his head pop. He breathed out as deeply as he dared before pulling the trigger on the damaged blaster.

Time seemed to slow as the blaster took its sweet time firing, circuits lighting up to create the laser bullets that it fired. Each second that ticked by was another second that Lotor hovered on the sword’s edge of killing Keith, his blade dangling over Keith’s unprotected throat.

Panic filled him as the gun’s circuits began to die down, the gun whining to a halt in his arms.

No. No, this couldn’t be happening!

He shook it harshly in his arms, looking up to meet Keith’s gaze, a strange expression on his face. The Red Paladin gripped at his bayard with his injured arm, a grimace on his face. Lotor pressed his foot to Keith’s injured shoulder, pulling a harsh cry of pain from him.

Lance smacked the side of the gun with the flat of his palm, cerulean eyes blazing. Satisfied with his percussive maintenance, he pulled the blaster to his shoulder once more, pulling at the trigger, the circuits lighting up in a quick sequence.

At last, the gun fired and Lance’s wicked grin turned triumphant. Lotor turned at the sound, the shot taking him in the chest. The Galra blasters packed a much deeper bite than his own bayard and he took satisfaction in the way Lotor seemed to freeze looking down at his shattered chest plate. He staggered backwards and Lance let the blaster fall from his hands, stalking forward.

This wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough for what Lotor had done to him. For what Lotor had taken from him.

He didn’t hear Keith’s calls to him, vision tunneled in the wake of his righteous anger. Finally hitting the wall, Lotor slid down, breath coming in wet gasps, sword dropping from his slackened fingers.

“This is… not possible.” Lotor choked, oddly colored blood coming to stain the side of his mouth, “That was broken! You… are broken!”

Lance knelt in front of his mortally wounded captor, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. “I guess we both weren’t as broken as you thought.” Lance said carefully, clawed fingertips coming up to rest around Lotor’s eye.

“Lance, what are you doing?” Keith whispered, sitting up from where he laid on the floor, “Stop, we can get out of here!”

Keith’s words pulled at his rational mind but he shook them away, the sharpness of his claws puncturing the skin of Lotor’s face.

He was going to make Lotor suffer.

“You know, Lotor, on our planet we have a saying.” Lance hummed thoughtfully, “It’s _beauty is in the eye of the beholder_.”

His claws dug in abruptly, pulling a scream from the Galra Prince. The bloody work culminated in a sickening squelch, the torn orb of his eye sitting idly in Lance’s palm. “Funny. I don’t see any beauty here.” Lance grinned, Lotor glaring up at him with his one functioning eye, “Guess they were wrong.”

“This isn’t over, Lance.” Lotor spat, breaths more wheeze than gasp, the torn side of his face almost grotesque to look upon, “I will never stop trying to find you. You will never be safe from me.”

The absolute certainty in Lotor’s words made the fire in Lance’s chest go cold and he stood, stepping back from the Prince. A hand clasped his shoulder and he jumped, turning to look at an awestruck Keith. The expression faded when his eyes roamed over Lance’s face, the purple that had painted Keith’s skin overtaking all but a thin strip of his forehead, eyes a full, warm gold.

The familiarity of his face was comforting and Lance let his tense breath leave him, Lotor’s eye slipping from his fingers to the floor. Keith’s gaze was drawn to it, disgust creasing his face. He stepped forward, crushing the eye beneath his feet, a feeling of vicious glee coming across their bond for a moment before it was squashed down.

Lance grabbed the hand on his shoulder, lacing their fingers together and praying that Keith wouldn’t notice how badly he was trembling. The other paladin looked at him critically before pulling him along, both of them turning their backs on the injured prince and striding from the bridge.

He wouldn’t be following them any time soon.

As soon as they pushed their way out of the sliding door, Lance curled around Keith, burying his face in his uninjured shoulder. Keith’s hands hesitated for a moment before they wrapped around Lance tightly, trying to take care with his injured ribs.

“Oh, sweet quiznack. You’re actually here.” Lance breathed, the reality of the situation hitting him all at once, “That really happened. We’re going home.”

“I don’t think you’re using that word right.” Keith teased, his voice tight and face pressed against Lance’s hair, “I’m so glad you’re alive. When you cut off again, I thought you were gone and I…I didn’t know what to do. Lance, don’t ever fucking do this again.”

Lance lifted his head, looking into Keith’s eyes before resting his forehead against Keith’s, letting his lids drop with a flutter. “I don’t know if I can promise that, mullet.” He tried, a smile failing on his lips, “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I’m serious!” Keith snapped, making Lance’s eyes shoot open, “If we’re going to be together, Lance, we can’t do shit like this! We need to be a team! I…I appreciate that you saved my life but Lance, I…Jesus, I don’t know if I could do this again! I was so fucking scared.”

“Keith…”

“Don’t you ‘Keith’ me.” Keith said roughly, the gold in his eyes glimmering, “I was really worried about you. I love you too, you beautiful fucking idiot.”

Lance smiled gently, “I can’t promise that I won’t ever do something dumb but I’ll try to keep my self-sacrificial expeditions to a minimum. Can you promise me the same?”

“If it means that I’m not going to run into a situation where you get yourself captured by some crazy royalty hell bent on making you a toy, then yeah.” Keith said fiercely, “I missed you so much. We all missed you.”

Basking in the love he felt from Keith, Lance hummed in his throat, nose brushing against Keith’s. “I missed you too. I knew you guys would come for me.”

“There was no way we’d leave you behind, Lance.” Keith replied, earnest feeling in his words.

Lance inwardly chuckled at how open Keith was being. It was nothing like how he’d been when they first met. If Keith from then could see himself now, he’d be shocked.

He was just so happy that they had come so far with each other. They’d grown from their, admittedly one-sided, rivalry, to friends and co-leaders and now to lovers.

The circumstances weren’t ideal but Lance wouldn’t trade his impulsive, hot-headed Keith for the world.

“I’m still glad you came when you did.” Lance murmured, curling his fingers through the soft hair on the back of Keith’s neck.

“Yeah.” Keith sighed before his ears flattened, the hint of a growl in his chest, “Mind telling me what the hell you were doing with Lotor when I showed up?”

“Distracting him?”

“By flirting?”

Lance huffed dramatically, throwing his head back. “Haven’t you seen Aladdin?”

“Uh, no? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Princess Jasmine totally uses her bootylicious charms to distract the bad guy while her love sneaks in. It’s a classic technique and our version worked way better than hers. Which is probably for the best because I have no idea how I’d get out of a giant hourglass.” Lance pouted, looking at Keith with narrowed eyes, “You’ve seriously never seen that movie.”

“No. I haven’t.” Keith said defensively, setting his jaw, “What does it have to do with the fact that you kissed that psycho? There is no distraction that should call for that. You should have just punched him.”

“I panicked okay? The door made the noise and that’s what Jasmine did so I just kinda followed the script.” Lance flushed, shuddering at the memory, “And thanks for the reminder. I need a toothbrush. A couple of them. And like a cup of bleach.”

“You can’t put bleach in your mouth, Lance.”

“Watch me.”

Keith huffed out a laugh at him before his face flushed a strange fuchsia, gaze pulling downward as he bit at his lip nervously. “Want me to kiss it better?” He asked lowly, the sentence making his flush deepen.

Lance immediately felt the pointed tips of his ears go hot, the heat making its way down across his face, tattoos taking a pinkish-red hue. “Uhh….” He swallowed, Keith’s words making his mind go blank, “Please?”

If possible, the fuchsia darkened and Keith stared at him, throat bobbing. “Really?”

Recovering himself, Lance let his lids lower half-way, pulling himself up to his full height so that Keith had to look up just the slightest bit. “Yeah, come on, bat boy.” He grinned, “Don’t leave me hanging here.”

The light of challenge filled Keith’s golden eyes and he pressed Lance against the far wall of the hallway, hands sliding down his sides to rest on his hips. He leaned in, his breath hot against Lance’s mouth. Lance felt like his blood was singing in his veins, tattoos a deep, passionate blue that ebbed and flowed like the ocean. Their flow reflected off Keith’s eyes and Lance was mesmerized, lips parting.

A slight hint of a grin curved Keith’s lips and he moved, pressing his mouth to Lance’s almost gently. They held it for a moment before Lance began to move his lips, fingertips pushing at the back of Keith’s head. A muffled noise left the Red Paladin and he began to respond in kind, surging into Lance roughly.

Fire seemed to blaze under Lance’s skin as their kiss started to dissolve into making out, Keith’s hands gripping at his bare hips almost painfully.

The awkward clearing of a throat made Keith jump away and Lance looked to the interlopers, blue eyes narrowed. A duo of guards had their blasters half pointed at the pair, confusion on their faces. “Uh, freeze?”

“If you have to phrase it like a question, something tells me you don’t actually know what you’re doing.” Lance said dryly, crossing his shackled arms over his chest, “Just drop the blasters here and you can pretend we defeated you and go hide out in the guard room.”

“I…uh, no!” One of the guards blurted, looking between the unimpressed Lance and armed Keith, “We are proud soldiers of the Galra Empire and we won’t bow to the likes of….oh, you’re the Red Paladin.”

Keith nodded slowly, one eyebrow arched. The guards tossed their weapons at Lance’s feet abruptly, taking a few steps back and lifting their hands in surrender. “I didn’t even want to enlist. And Lotor’s a jerk.” The first speaker said quickly, looking between the two paladins fearfully, “Just please don’t kill us.”

Lance turned his gaze to the confused Keith and gave him a shrug, chuckling at the concerned look on Keith’s face. “I wouldn’t have killed them.” He said softly, an almost whiny tone to his voice.

Lifting an eyebrow at Keith’s grumbling, Lance shook his head lifting one of the blasters and giving it a quick look over. “Don’t worry about your apparent reputation as a bloodthirsty killer. Like you said, we need to get out of here. Where are the others?”

“Hunk is helping lure the fleet away and Pidge is giving us cover. Shiro and Allura are in here. They made me leave and they took on Haggar on their own.” Keith relayed, the two of them making their way down the hallway, leaving the disarmed guards by the broken door to the bridge.

“Haggar is here?” Lance said weakly, concern bubbling up in his chest, “That is definitely not good. Alright, so we need to get out of here as quickly as we can. Come on, this way!”

Lance took the fork at the hallways, Keith following but not without an angry sort of confusion buzzing in the back of Lance’s skull. “Where the hell are you going?”

“There’s two others here that Lotor took as prizes. I’m not leaving them behind!” Lance said fiercely, Keith nodding at his reasoning.

“Alright, but we don’t have any time to waste. I don’t know what else Haggar has planned but there’s gotta be more druids around and like hell I’m going to give her what she wants.”

Lance felt a rush of protective anger from his mate and decided not to press the issue. It was hard enough trying to hustle down these halls and breathe, let alone talk. They reached the ornate doors of the trophy room quickly, the blinking keypads making Lance slow. Keith looked at him in concern, darting his eyes over to the keypads. “I can run back and grab the guards.” He offered, voice soft.

“No.” Lance responded, voice firm, “There’s something I need to test anyway.”

Walking over to one of the keypads, Lance let his hand hover over the blinking surface, consciously aware of Keith doing the same to the other one. Hesitantly, he let his hand meet the scanner, heart dropping to his feet when it lit up green, the doors cracking open with a silent hiss.

Lotor hadn’t been bluffing. They really did change him. He had no idea of to what extent, but a part of him was Galra now.

He truly would never escape what Lotor did to him.

Closing his eyes for a moment in an attempt to compose himself, Lance reached out to Blue, their bond strong and her presence comforting.

She gave him a quick purr before mentally pressing him on.

There were people depending on him.

Keith’s fingers twined with his own briefly and Lance opened his eyes to smile at him, the expression enough to make Keith relax, the strip of human colored skin at the top of his hairline almost completely gone.

They pushed the doors open together, a warning growl the only thing he got before Maia leapt into his field of view. Unthinkingly, he stepped in front of Keith and she paused, attack posture dropping. “Lance?” She breathed, moving forward to cradle his face in her hands, “You’re covered in blood. Not the human color either. What happened?”

“We took Lotor down.” Lance said proudly, looking up into Maia’s wide eyes, “And Voltron’s here to get us but we gotta go now. There’s druids on the ship.”

She nodded solemnly, moving over to the pillow pile with cat-like grace. Keith gave him a sharp poke to the hip in warning, a noise of disapproval leaving him. “She didn’t know who you were. And you didn’t see what she did to a guard that one time.” Lance explained lowly, moving out of the way so Keith could take in the room, “I doubt she would have given me time to explain.”

“Who is she?” Keith asked, curiosity in his voice as he watched Maia pull Kore out from the pillow pile, the kit looking up at the two of them in joy.

“Her name is Maia and the little one with her is Kore.” Lance murmured, “Kore’s like you, Keith. She’s half-Galra.”

Peering at the little girl, Keith gave her a small smile and she lit up, squirming out of her mother’s arms and darting over to them in her lanky kitten kind of way. “Lance friend! Mama says that Voltron is here to save us!” She said excitedly, her hands clutching at Lance’s pant legs and eyes closed to protect them from the brightness of the hallway, “Also, it sounds like your sharp friend is here. The one who makes your heart do the funny flip thing.”

Lance flushed at her bluntness while Keith barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess I am Lance’s sharp friend. My name is Keith.”

“Oh good.” She sighed, “I was worried you were going to be named after a weapon too.”

Lance grinned at her observation, looking up as Maia marched up to them. She scooped Kore up from the floor, letting the kit hide her face in her chest. “You said there were druids, yes? We have little time to waste.” She nodded, a thin tremble to her voice, “I’m so very happy you came back for us, Lance.”

“I promised.” Lance winked, readjusting the blaster in his hands.

A soft hum of love buzzed across their bond and Lance looked to see Keith looking at him softly, a shimmer of pride in his face. “Maia is right.” Keith said gruffly, glancing away when Lance caught him staring, “We need to go meet up with others and get out of here as soon as possible. We may have taken Lotor down but his fleet is still going strong.”

Nodding, Lance stepped out into the hallway, leading the way to the fork they had come across earlier. Kore wiggled in Maia’s arms the whole time, blindly reaching for Lance as they walked. Maia tried valiantly to keep her kit still but Lance finally just laughed and pushed the blaster into Maia’s hands, taking Kore. “It’s okay. You’re in better shape to fight right now than either of us.” He said kindly, stifling a giggle when Kore nuzzled her fuzzy face into his collarbone.

Maia opened her mouth to protest when Lance pouted at her and she sighed, doing the Galra equivalent of rolling her eyes. “You are both rather reckless warriors. If all of the paladins of Voltron are as impulsive as you, we might have an issue.”

Keith colored again, frowning at Maia deeply. “I’m not reckless.” He mumbled under his breath, words making Lance laugh.

Footsteps busted their happy bubble like glass, both Keith and Maia dropping into defensive positions. A tattered druid darted around the corner, freezing when they caught sight of the group. Lance shivered when he felt the weight of the druid’s stare on his skin, electricity coming to sparkle at the tips of their fingers. “Blue Paladin.” They said hoarsely, stumbling forward with an almost single-minded determination.

Their stumble turned into a leap and Lance danced out of the way with a yelp, Kore clinging to him desperately. The fabric of his pants tripped at his feet and he fell into the wall of the hallway, a stab of pain slamming through his injured rib.

His breath left him in a rush and Kore whimpered, the crackle of electricity making Lance twist uncomfortably, shielding the small girl with his own body. He tensed waiting for the tell-tale pain of druidic quintessence but it never came.

Cracking his eyes open, he saw Maia standing in front of them, shoulders bowed inward and body trembling. A cry left the child in his arms and she darted away from him, standing behind her mother with wide eyes, overwhelmed tears streaming down her face. “Mama!”

The familiar noise of a blade meeting flesh went on in the background, Keith’s snarls overridden by the horror Lance felt as he saw Maia stagger back, bloody mess on the front of her dress. She hit the wall with a groan, knees giving out. Lance scrambled to her side, Kore already climbing into her lap, staring at the blast in her mother’s midsection.

“Why the hell did you do that?” Lance demanded, eyebrows furrowed.

“A mother will always do what is best for her kits, even at her own sacrifice.” Maia said weakly, her hand resting shakily on Kore’s head.

“No!” Lance cried, “This is not a sacrifice. We have healing pods at the castle! We’ll get you there.”

“That’s very kind of you, Lance.” Maia smiled, voice rough, “But you needn’t go to the trouble. Just take care of Kore for me?”

Keith stomped up to them angrily, eyes narrowed down at the female Galra. Lance could feel the emotions swirling at the back of Keith’s mind and he sent a plaintive glance to his lover. “Don’t you dare give up now.” He snarled, “You’re gonna live and you’re going to be the one to take care of your kid.”

Maia’s eyes widened at Keith’s words, expression creasing sadly. “I’m sorry, kit. It was never my intention to bring up bad feelings.”

Keith’s face shuttered and he snagged a sniffling Kore, tossing her to Lance before pulling Maia’s arm over his uninjured shoulder. Lance caught the kit frantically, throwing an incredulous look at Keith. “Keith, you can’t just throw children!”

“You caught her, didn’t you?” Keith returned brusquely, their movement down the hall slowed drastically by their injuries.

Lance did his best to keep up, fear and pain warring in him.

He just hoped they made it to the others in time.

~~~~

A grunt of effort left Shiro as he parried the witch once again, the strength behind her claws disproportionate to her size and appearance. They shrieked against the metal of his arm as he fought her off, the whistle of Allura’s staff making Haggar spin away from him.

After he had sent Keith off into the ship, Shiro had been fighting both with himself and the witch in front of him. Just the sound of her voice made him want to curl into a ball as far away from her as possible. The struggle with his memories and the encroaching feeling of a panic attack made him slow, a fact that Haggar took advantage of at every opportunity.

“Is there something the matter, Champion?” She cackled, ducking under Allura’s staff and loosing a crackle of quintessence at the princess, “You aren’t as stable as before.”

“Focus, Shiro.” Allura called, her eyes looking at him plaintively, something more than worry hidden in the depths, “We need to finish this so we can get out of here.”

“Your dear princess is right, Champion. We do need to finish this quickly.” Haggar snapped, flicking quintessence at Allura once more, “I have so much planned for your Blue Paladin and the sooner I can get started, the better.”

Anger filled Shiro at Haggar’s words and he used it to center himself, pushing back his impending panic attack with the fury blazing through him. “I won’t let you have him. I won’t let you have any of them.” Shiro bit out, the certainty in his own words giving him a platform on which to build himself.

He was their leader. He would protect them.

Maybe he wouldn’t be able to protect them from everything but he would damn sure not let Haggar get her claws into any of them.

Not on his life.

Shiro surged forward, Galra hand blazing a sinister purple as he slashed at the witch. Reflexes slowed by Keith’s earlier attack, she barely dodged out of the way of a mortal blow, his hand catching the top of her arm, blood immediately coming to soak the rest of her robe’s sleeve.

She danced away awkwardly, hand clutching at her injured shoulder. “Surrender yourself, Haggar.” Allura ordered, pointing the end of her staff at the witch, “We will bring you to justice.”

“Don’t want to kill me, princess?” Haggar baited, “We both know that’s the only way you’ll be rid of me. What prison could hold my power? What restraints could you fashion that I would be unable to break? Face it. There will be no way to end the war between us without bloodshed. And unlike you, I have no qualms in doing the ‘dishonorable’ thing.”

Her body shuddered like static, the image of it fading as Shiro watched. He reached out to stop her but before his hand could connect, she vanished, the taunting glow of her eyes the last thing to fade away. Allura made a noise of frustration, making as if to bolt down the hall after her. Shiro caught at her arm, concern in his eyes. “It isn’t worth it to go after her, princess.” He counseled, “We didn’t even come here for her. It’s probably better if we stay here. This is the place Keith last saw us. He’ll come back here first to meet up with us.”

The tension in Allura’s shoulders eased and she looked back at him regretfully, putting her hand atop of his. “Are you okay, Shiro?” Allura said gently, her voice soothing to his ears, “I know this could not have been an easy fight for you.”

Unsure of how to answer, Shiro looked away, unwilling to meet the princess’s eyes. “I’m not sure. I think I’m okay for now.”

Allura’s hand squeezed at his own for a moment, the motion meaning more to him than he could really begin to communicate. “If you need someone to talk to, Shiro, I am here for you. You don’t have to fight these battles alone. _All_ of Team Voltron is here for you.”

Sending her a grateful smile, Shiro took his hand back, eyes flicking to the end of the hallway as he heard a weird shuffling, low voices echoing down the hallway. “Stay sharp, someone’s coming.”

Allura nodded at him, moving her staff to a readier position in her hands.  She was an excellent battle partner. He really enjoyed fighting by her side.

She was a good person to have at his back.

They faced the oncoming noise together, abruptly relaxing when they saw both Keith and Lance come around the corner. Shiro’s arm twitched instinctively at the Galra hanging on Keith’s shoulder, Keith’s own appearance unsettling him greatly. A small bundle of purple had attached itself to Lance and Shiro looked at it curiously, eyebrows flying up when the apparent Galra _child_ turned its head to look at him through watery eyes. “Will they be able to help Mama?” The child warbled, looking up at Lance desperately.

“They sure can, little lady.” Lance responded, his eyes moving from the girl to Allura, “We need to get back to the Castle as soon as possible. These two were also prizes of Lotor and Maia got hurt defending us.”

Shiro could see the pain fill Allura’s eyes as she looked upon Lance but she stiffened her shoulders and nodded. “I’ll contact Coran as soon as we get back to the Black Lion.”

“Are we all going to fit in the Black Lion?” Keith asked, looking over to Shiro critically.

Fighting the urge to flinch when those golden eyes locked themselves onto him, Shiro nodded. “Black is the largest of the Lions. She should have plenty of space for everyone. We need to hurry though. Haggar just disappeared on us. I don’t want to hang around in case she decides to show up again.”

Keith inclined his head, an inscrutable expression on his face. Shiro watched as Lance looked between the two of them, eyebrows furrowing in concern. He laid a gentle hand on Keith’s shoulder, making eye contact with Shiro insistently. Shiro held his gaze uneasily, the slits of Lance’s pupils seeming to look into his very soul.

He hadn’t given Lance very much credit in the past and in his absence, Lance had been the one to step up and take care of the team. He couldn’t think of the words to thank Lance or to help him understand how much he appreciated him.

How much they all did really.

Looking at him now, Shiro felt guilty and he was sure it showed on his face, the expression making Lance back off, squeezing Keith’s shoulder and leaning in to whisper something in his ear. Keith looked at him sharply, an expression of relief crossing his face briefly before nodding, a small smile being sent Lance’s way.

It was heart-warming to look at them now and see how much they had grown while he was gone. The rivalry he had lectured them over before was gone and in its place he could see the great trust and affection they had for each other. They were a force to be reckoned with now, even as injured as Keith appeared to be and the damage Shiro was sure that Lance had suffered.

That damage wouldn’t be seen on the outside, Shiro knew for certain. As he watched Lance coo to the tiny child clinging to him, he knew that Lance would be haunted by what happened to him here.

Shiro could definitely understand that.

He would do his best to be there for Lance, especially as they made it to safety and the adrenaline of escape wore off. Recovery would be a long road for the Blue Paladin.

Allura turned to him quickly, catching his eye. “Let’s make our way out of here.”

Stiffening his shoulders at her order, Shiro gave her a quick nod and led the way down the passage, carefully maneuvering their way through the twists and turns of Lotor’s ship. “It is strange that there are so few guards.” Allura said idly, eyes flicking down the halls, carefully avoiding looking at Lance.

“Lotor isn’t very popular with his staff.” Lance said dryly, “They tend to make themselves scarce if they don’t have to be somewhere.”

“That doesn’t really seem like the Empire we know.” Keith hummed, his words making Shiro nod in agreement.

“The soldiers under Lotor are the refuse of the Empire.” The Galra on Keith’s shoulder explained in a low, pained voice, “They are the lowest of their class, soldiers who have been pushed out of the illustrious ranks for one reason or another.”

“You know an awful lot about that.” Allura said suspiciously, casting her eyes back at the Galra in a way that made Shiro frown.

He had thought she’d be over much of her blind hostility given how often she worked with Galra now.

The Galra gave a tired laugh, golden eyes weakly looking over at the princess. “If you had met me many years ago, your suspicion would have been warranted. It might even have extended your life. However, I serve Zarkon no longer.” The Galra sighed, “I have been a prize of Lotor for the last five years and it isn’t difficult to make the guards talk. Most have an inherent fear of female Galra.”

Lance chuckled at her words, patting his clawed hands over the back of the child in his arms. “Can’t say I blame them, Maia. After what you did to that one guard, I doubt any of them would dare to cross you.”

Shiro lifted an eyebrow at the easy way Lance addressed this “Maia”, a light of trust sparkling in his cerulean eyes. “What did you even do while you were serving under Lotor?” Keith said, shifting Maia higher on his shoulder.

“I was an assassin for Zarkon. One of his best actually.” Maia stated simply, ignoring the look of alarm Shiro was throwing her, “That was until I met my mate Tirek and joined the rebellion against Zarkon.”

Keith looked at her critically before half-shrugging, sharing a glance with Lance. “Makes sense.” Lance hummed, walking up by Shiro, “I’ve never seen someone melt into the shadows like she does. I was reasonably sure she was a ninja the first time I met her.”

“He truly has no sense of self-preservation, does he?”

Shiro failed in suppressing a snort, an over-dramatic gasp of betrayal coming from Lance. “Shiro! I do so have self-preservation!”

“Sorry to break it to you, Lance, but you really don’t.” Shiro smiled, suppressing his instincts when Lance showed off a mouth full of wickedly sharp teeth in his return smile.

It was unsettling but he pressed through it. This was Lance.

Lance might be a pain sometimes but he was never a threat.

The child in Lance’s arms looked up from the dip of Lance’s collarbone curiously, their wide golden eyes looking at Shiro in awe. “Are you with Voltron too? Do you pilot a giant cat like Lance friend?” They chirped, the grin on Lance’s face turning fond.

Shiro found himself at a loss for words at the inquisition spear-headed by the little Galra child, their body wiggling in Lance’s arms until he lost his grip and Shiro found himself with an armful of excited little kid. “My name is Kore and Lance friend has been very kind to me. He drank the bad stuff for me and protected me from the Prince.” Kore recited, ignoring Lance’s attempts to get her to stop, “I love him a lot. Are you really kind like Lance too? Are there more paladins? Why do you all look so different? Are all humans so different? What’s your name?”

Ignoring the growl coming from Keith at Kore’s admission, Shiro felt his defenses lower, a smile curving his lips as he looked down at what he could now determine to be a little girl. “My name is Shiro. It’s very nice to meet you, Kore.”

“I’m so happy not all humans are named after weapons.” Kore sighed dramatically, “I was worried all of you were going to have weird names. Like Lance. He doesn’t look anything like a lance!”

Shiro stifled his chuckles, looking up to see Lance pouting at him, Allura looking at the scene almost wistfully. “I’m very proud of Lance for making sure you were okay.” Shiro said carefully, making eye contact with Lance over Kore’s tiny shoulder, “We were all really worried about him.”

Kore nodded and Lance turned his head away, an overwhelmed expression on his face. “What kind of bad stuff did Lance drink for you?” Allura questioned quietly, appearing on Shiro’s other side to look at the child closely.

Looking to the princess, Kore’s eyes widened and she gasped. “Are you the princess? You’re so beautiful. I’ve never seen someone as beautiful as you….aside from Lance, of course.”

Allura sputtered out a laugh, the sound making Shiro chuckle. “You are very kind, little one. But please, what did Lance drink for you?”

“It was the Skaridia.” Lance said quietly, his arms crossed defensively over his chest, “It was only two doses but apparently it affects humans to a much greater degree. I guess it decided to kill me a lot quicker than anticipated.”

His voice was bitter, the glowing tattoos in his skin turning dark, a fathomless blue-black that made Shiro’s heart clench painfully in his chest. “Prince Fancypants kept me alive. He didn’t want to lose out on his masterpiece before he could make it.”

Kore quieted in Shiro’s hold, hiding her face in Shiro’s shoulder. “The Prince liked Lance very much.” Kore whispered, her voice carrying to Shiro’s ear, “And I’m scared of what he did to him.”

Alarmed, Shiro looked over his teammate, oblivious to Keith’s noise of caution, Allura panicking beside him. Lance cast him a quick glance before something hit him sharply at the back of his knees, legs buckling.

He froze up when Haggar appeared out of nowhere, curling her claws around Lance’s neck, tips pricking at the scarred skin around Lance’s collar. Her skin sparkled with the same static she had used to disappear and Shiro narrowed his eyes at her. “I knew following you would give me an opportunity.” Haggar smirked, letting her glowing eyes meet Shiro’s.

His hands were tied with the child in his arms and Shiro felt helplessness well up in him. “Careful, Team Voltron. I won’t hesitate to spill his throat in this hallway. Better dead than in your hands.” The witch cackled, “You don’t even know what he is capable of now, do you?”

Allura’s staff was in her hands once more and Keith stood at her side, Maia set carefully against the wall. “Put him down.” Keith snarled, the fur on the back of his neck standing up.

A chill ran down Shiro’s spine at the unbridled aggression in Keith’s tone, Allura taking an offensive positon beside the Red Paladin. “Do you really have the time to fight me?” Haggar said, her eyes flicking to where Maia laid against the wall.

A weary sigh left the paladin she had caught and his hands clenched into fists. “I’m getting real sick of people using me against my friends.”

Lance looked up, eyes meeting Shiro’s for a moment before they glowed an unholy blue, his tattoos taking on a similar hue. Haggar cast a look at him in confusion, her talons slashing at his skin inadvertently when the ship suddenly listed to the side, the wall beside Haggar punching inward, the razor sharp claw of a Lion piercing through the tough exterior of the ship.

It pulled away, ripping a sharp gap in the ship’s hallway. The claw had only been gone for a moment before the Blue Lion shoved her muzzle in the hole, a roar nearly deafening everyone. Lance’s eyes dimmed immediately and he grasped at Haggar’s hand, taking advantage of her distraction to fling her down the hallway, teeth bared in a snarl.

Shiro gaped at the move, knowing that the Lance of four days ago would not have had the ability to throw someone like that. Lance caught his eye and paled, blood trickling from the cuts on his throat insistently. “Blue and I will take Maia and Kore. We’ll go straight for the castle.”

“I’m coming with you.” Keith said insistently, expression on his face leaving no room for argument.

“Allura and Shiro need you.” Lance tried, apparently ignoring the stalwart look on Keith’s face.

“Remember what we said, Lance. We’re a team. No more dumb shit.” Keith said, his tone heated as he got into Lance’s space, “You aren’t leaving me behind again.”

Lance smiled at him, the love in his face making Shiro feel like he should be looking anywhere else. “Alright then, _cariño._ Hop in.” Lance caved, “We have a Space Galra Mom to save.”

Shiro choked on a laugh, letting Lance take the Galra child from his arms, Keith moving in eerie sync to retrieve the steadily weakening Maia. “Be careful.” Allura said earnestly, doing her best to make eye contact with Lance, “We don’t want to lose you again.”

“You got it, Princess.” Lance winked, disappearing behind Keith into this Lion’s mouth, “You two lovebirds behave.”

Shiro flushed at Lance’s words, the princess sputtering after him. Exchanging an embarrassed look, they carefully returned their gaze to the Lion that had busted into the ship to rescue her paladin. Cautiously peering down the hallways, Shiro could see no sign of Haggar.

It made him antsy.

They waited until the Blue Lion had pulled her head from the wall before running for where the Black Lion perched on the ships surface, the whole time keeping a watchful eye out for Zarkon’s crafty witch.

Filing into Black’s open mouth, Shiro dropped himself into the pilot’s chair, Black’s steady presence settling his shaken nerves and Allura’s warmth at his back grounding him.

They did it. They got Lance back.

Now they just had to get everyone away from Lotor’s fleet.

~~~~

Keith climbed into Blue quickly, setting Maia to the side carefully, his heart clenching in his chest when she gave him a weary smile, patting at his hand. “You are good for him, kit.” She whispered, golden eyes hazy, “He’s suffered a lot.”

Dipping his head, Keith tried his best to return her smile but his worry made it twist, the action more a grimace than an actual smile. “Please don’t die on us.” He said lowly, “I’m pretty sure we have you to thank that Lance is doing as well as he is.”

“Appearing to do well and actually being well are different things, little one.” Maia sighed, letting her head rest back against the wall of the Blue Lion, “Keep an eye out.”

He stepped back from the resting Galra woman, unsettled by her words. Lance _felt_ okay, but was that a ruse too? He knew that Lance liked to cover up how he felt through jokes and misdirection but could he even do that with the bond between them? Keith felt like every emotion he had was immediately bared to Lance, everything on high alert and insistent.

In contrast, Lance was quiet, almost subtle. Keith had to reach to understand what he was feeling and even then he frequently misunderstood. When he had seen Lance in the throne room with Lotor, he’d panicked and completely missed some of the disgust that Lance had been broadcasting to him.

He’d almost thought the disgust had been directed at himself.

It was only after they’d had their… _moment_ in the hallway that Keith had begun to understand.

Glancing up, he watched Lance settle Kore to the side of the cockpit, the tiny Galra child looking up at him from between two control panels. Once he was satisfied, he looked up at Keith and Keith flushed at being caught staring again.

In the darkness of Blue’s cockpit, Lance glowed, the tattoos that marked his beautiful skin ebbing and flowing like the water Lance loved so much. At the moment they were a piercing, stellar blue, a color that Keith would forever associate with Lance.

Letting the dim light disguise his gaze, Keith let his eyes wander over the paladin he had fallen for. Even with Lotor’s changes, Keith recognized his Lance.

The Lance who would come bug him at all hours of the day, interrupting him when he’d been training for too long with a grin and a bad joke. The one who would stay up with him for hours in the observation deck, talking quietly about anything and everything.

The beauty that he had come to love was still there, both inside and out. He definitely looked like some kind of alien royalty with all the changes, but Keith really didn’t have any room to talk. His Galra genetics had decided that now was a great time to overpower his human genes. He looked just as alien as Lance.

He stifled a snort at the comparison, looking at the other boy fondly.

They matched.

As he was looking, a sharply metallic smell caught his attention and he zeroed in on the slashes to Lance’s throat, the lacerations just barely missing his jugular and carotid. “Lance, shit, sit down for a minute.” He said, trying and failing to keep the alarm out of his voice as Blue pulled her head out of Lotor’s ship, the motion making Keith stumble.

Lance sat down obediently, his dusky skin starting to look a little chalky. “Is something wrong?” Lance questioned, apparently not noticing how badly his hands were trembling as he reached for Blue’s controls.

“Yes, something’s wrong, you idiot.” Keith snapped, digging the cabinets for Lance’s first aid kit, desperation building in him when he couldn’t find it, “Where’s your first aid kit?”

Lance frowned for a moment, hands coming to his throat and looking at the tips of his blood stained fingers. “Oh.” He said idly, “I used the last of it on the mission before this. When did this even happen?”

“When Blue jammed her face through the wall.” Keith groaned, abandoning his search to come loom over Lance, looking at the scratches, “Are you telling me you didn’t feel it at all?”

“I was bonded with Blue. I kinda don’t know what happens to my body.” Lance admitted, looking down at his pants, “We could use some of this as bandages?”

Keith looked down where he indicated, pushing away the part of his brain that wanted to linger on the length of smooth thighs bared by the pants, tattoos crisscrossing the skin. He nodded at Lance and ripped part of the pant leg, pulling off strips violently. “What do you mean you were bonded with Blue? We’re all bonded with our lions.”

“Uh, I don’t really know how to explain it. Remember how Coran was trying to get us to see through our Lions’ eyes? I managed it. Blue and I were kinda one person? And we were kind of focusing on her body, not mine.” Lance rambled, voice meandering, eyes slipping closed when Keith leaned up to clean the cuts on his neck, fighting down guilt and anger on Lance’s behalf.

Underneath the blood and new scratches, there were half scarred over wounds, all of them centering around the slick collar, faint vibrations still buzzing against his skin.

Keith could feel Blue moving through space, her actions far more careful than the last time he’d been in her cockpit. Keith looked up from the collar to Lance’s face, taking everything in. “Lance, how do I take this collar off?”

Lance’s face shuttered and Keith felt a surge of emotion from Lance’s side of the bond, a confusing mess of fear, anxiety, and a thick ebbing hatred that made Keith’s stomach churn. “I…I don’t actually know. I was hoping that Pidge or Hunk would be able to figure it out.” He said haltingly, keeping his eyes trained on the ceiling.

His words hit Keith hard and Keith returned to his task, feeling rather useless. What could he do for Lance? He hadn’t even been the one to take Lotor down, Blue had saved him from Haggar, and now he couldn’t even take off the collar that apparently bothered Lance so badly!

Wrapping the makeshift bandages around Lance’s throat carefully, Keith breathed through his emotions, trying desperately to keep them away from the bond between himself and Lance.

However valiant his effort, it was in vain. Lance looked down at him incredulously, even his eyes seeming to glow with his tattoos. Keith refused to meet his gaze, hands resting on the arms of Lance’s pilot chair. “Keith, _cariño,_ look at me?” Lance called to him beseechingly, the trill of Spanish off his tongue catching Keith’s attention.

He knew that one too. One of his foster families back in Texas had spoken Spanish to each other frequently and he picked up a lot while he lived with them. It was one of the better homes and he still remembers how much his foster parents had seemed to love each other.

So much so that when his foster father had been killed in a car accident, his foster mother just kind of shut down.

Did Lance feel that strongly about him? Would they reach that point one day?

Keith reluctantly turned his gaze to meet Lance’s, eyes widening at the affection clear on Lance’s face. “Are you really beating yourself up over not being able to do more?” Lance whispered, cerulean stare searching his face, “Don’t you realize how much it meant to me just knowing that you were alive? That my sacrifice had meant something?”

Swallowing harshly, Keith blinked rapidly. “I just don’t feel like I’ve done enough.” He said hoarsely, “That I’ve done enough to justify what you did for me.”

“You don’t need to do anything.” Lance smiled, the expression making Keith’s heart flutter, fangs and all, “That’s what love is, Keith. We don’t need to break even on every little thing we do. Sometimes, it’s just enough that we’re there for each other.”

A half-choked sob left Keith’s chest and he pulled Lance into his arms, finally letting himself accept that maybe, just maybe they’d make it out of this mess alive and together.

Lance’s grip curled around him tightly, the pressure on his injured shoulder making him let out a hiss. He opened his mouth to speak again when view screens opened all across Blue’s control panel, Pidge and Hunk letting out a cry of relief.

“Oh my god, you got him!” Hunk crowed, Keith sheepishly moving out of the way so that Lance could see everyone, “Prepare yourself, Lance. You have the best hug in the universe coming your way.”

Lance’s smile broadened, his eyes crinkling. “That sounds like just what I need, Hunk my man.”

Pidge cleared her throat imperiously, the sound at odds with the relieved tears that were gathering at the corners of her eyes. “I also have a face punching quota to meet. But I may wait until you get your skinny ass in a pod.”

Keith frowned when Pidge looked over him critically, lifting an eyebrow so high that it almost seemed to get lost in her wild hair, “When both of you get your asses in a pod.” She amended.

A screen popped up in the far corner, a harried Shiro on the screen. “Pods may have to wait guys. The fleet is going after the castle.” He said tightly, “Lance, get Maia and Kore to the castle and Keith, get to Red. We just heard from Coran, she should be okay enough to fly. We’re going to need Voltron.”

Happiness filled Keith at the news of Red, her weak purrs pulling at his attention. Lance gave Shiro a cheeky salute and grasped Blue’s controls, her pace picking up significantly. Keith kept an eye on Lance, watching him carefully as he interacted with his Lion.

They did seem more in sync, the idea making Keith frown. A huge part of their relationship had been built up by their competitive spirits and while he was happy that Lance had made such a huge stride with Blue, he didn’t particularly care for being left behind.

A grin curled his lips and he shifted his weight to one hip easily.

Guess he’d just have to catch up.

Lance flicked him a wry smirk, the tips of his newly pointed ears wiggling a little along with his eyebrows. It was surprising and Keith may have stared at them a moment too long, Lance’s laughter ringing through the cockpit.

Expertly, Lance brought them over to the castle, sliding into the hangar with a flourish. A purr rumbled through the cockpit and Keith smirked at the level of amusement in it. “She’s laughing at you, Lance.” Keith teased, moving over to where he left Maia.

His eyebrows furrowed at her shallow breathing but he lifted her gently, her weight giving him pause for a moment. He looked back to Lance, picking up his pace when he saw Lance’s face go pale, little Kore scurrying out from her hiding place to follow behind him. Before he left, he gave Lance a quick smile, feeling Lance’s apprehension just barely through their link.

“Everything is going to be okay, Lance. Trust us.”

Gratitude overtook apprehension and Lance gave him a lazy salute, settling back into his chair. As soon as they cleared Blue’s mouth, it clicked closed behind them, the fantastically huge Lion settling back, yellow eyes glowing brightly.

Keith turned back to where Coran waited, the old mechanic looking him over critically. “I daresay you need a pod too, my boy.” He said sternly, moving to Maia’s other side in order to carefully hoist her onto the floating gurney, “And if I know anything about Lance, he’ll need a quick trip as well.”

Nodding solemnly, Keith crouched down to Kore’s level, looking at the frightened child. “Kore, this is Coran. He’s gonna make sure your mom is alright.”

Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut in the brightness of the hangar and even Keith felt his sight prickle uncomfortably. “Keith friend, I’m scared.”

“It’ll be okay, I promise.” He said seriously, putting one hand on Kore’s shoulder, almost stumbling back in surprise when she took the opportunity to hug him.

“If it’s a promise, I know you’ll keep it.” She sniffed, “The paladins of Voltron keep their promises.”

Keith ruffled her hair slightly, chuckling when she grumbled at him. Coran took her by the hand gently, the two of them hurrying down the halls of the Castle, Kore’s inquisitive voice carrying back to Keith’s sensitive ears.

He waited until they were both out of sight before sprinting for Red’s hangar, his Lion surging to her feet at his approach. She dipped her head down to meet him and he threw his arms around as much of her face as he could reach. “I missed you too, girl.”

Her fiery presence wrapped around his mind and he reached out to meet that as well, letting her fall into place in his awareness. She settled in her spot well, her fire balancing out the coolness of Lance’s blue consciousness.

Keith had them both back now and like hell he was going to let them go.

Red’s jaw dropped open and Keith jumped inside, not even waiting for the ramp to descend before he was making his way into the cockpit. A flash of blue caught his attention and opened one of his cabinets, sharply, eyes widening when Lance’s bayard skittered out at his feet.

He picked up the familiar weapon, relief filling him now that he knew for sure where it was. They wouldn’t have to risk another foray into Lotor’s ship to find it.

Lance’s armor was lost but Keith was reasonably sure that Coran and Allura would be able to secure him another set. He put Lance’s bayard with his own before settling into his chair, grimacing at the blood smeared on his control panel. He shrugged after a moment, contenting himself with the knowledge that at least it was his own.

Red responded to his input at the controls immediately, leaping up and making her way out of her hangar to where her larger sister sat, Lance’s face popping up on his view screen, relief in his expression.

“I’m glad she’s doing alright. I was worried that after everything she was gonna be down for a while.” Lance huffed, pushing one hand through his hair.

Keith swallowed harshly at how distracting the action was but powered through it, pasting a smirk on his face. “Nothing can keep Red down for long.”

Lance lifted an eyebrow at the challenge in Keith’s voice, Blue shifting to a playful stance. “Well, the others have made their way just outside the moon. Race you there!”

Sputtering as Blue took off on a dime, Keith pushed Red’s controls forward, a delighted turn to her purr. They took off after Blue, catching up with the larger Lion in no time, Keith blowing Lance a kiss as they passed.

Both Red and Blue reached the others in record time, the other Lions hovering around them hesitantly. “Are you going to be okay to form Voltron, right now?” Pidge asked sharply through the group com, her words making Keith frown.

“It’s all good, Pidgeotto.” Lance drawled, his voice over the com just the same as before.

It was in immense contrast to the leaks of emotion over the bond, slivers of anxiety and nervousness betraying just how Lance truly felt. In that moment, Keith understood Maia’s words.

Lance may seem alright but something was going on under the surface.

Focusing on the rest of the team for a moment, Keith swore that he’d help Lance, in whatever way he could.

They waited for Shiro’s call, all of them slightly hesitant. Allura cleared her throat, voice carrying over the com. “What are you all waiting for?”

The tension shattered, Shiro’s face popped up on Keith’s dash, determination in his gaze. “Alright team, form Voltron!”

Keith flew with the others, letting the familiar calm that came with forming Voltron wash over him. He felt the emotions of the other paladins, the connection that he already shared with Lance deepening until he could clearly feel the rush of anxiety that Lance felt over the others sharing his head.

He sent a wave of calm to his lover, feeling Lance settle, the briefest sliver of overwhelming affection creeping through their bond.

Through the com, Pidge made a dramatic sound of gagging, her happiness bubbling over into the bond between all the paladins. “You guys are gross.” She whined, her words underscored by relief and joy that they were all back together.

“Brain PDA.” Hunk groaned, “Is that even a thing? Did you guys just make it a thing?”

Lance laughed at their reactions, letting a bit more of that beautiful affection leak into the bond and Keith grinned as he felt it wash over him. “As cute as you two are, we need to focus here.” Shiro said sternly, a tendril of amusement coming from his part of the bond.

Settling down, Keith focused on forming the great Defender of the Universe, the Lions falling into place with ease.  The fleets that had been advancing on the Castle trundled on, ignorant of the new player on the battlefield. When everything had finished moving, Keith let himself reach out to Red, a bit worried about how she was holding up.

She gave him a quick growl, definitely her equivalent of a nod and Keith let out a sigh. “We’ll need to keep this quick, guys. Red’s holding up now but I don’t want to push it.”

He felt understanding leak from the others, their own Lions tired from the fight they had been pushing themselves through to find Lance.

There was a glimmer of guilt from Lance’s end and Keith frowned, prodding at him for a moment before turning his attention to encroaching ships.

“Keith, form sword.” Shiro ordered, the command making Keith leap forward, pulling his bayard from his suit and pushing it into the slot.

Nothing happened for a moment and Shiro looked at him critically through the view screen. “What’s going on?”

Keith looked down at the the bayard in his hand, flushing when he saw precisely which color was in his hand. Red growled out a laugh at him in the back of his mind as he pulled the blue bayard back, switching it out with the red one, Lance joining in on Red’s amusement.

“You just tried to form the sword with my bayard, didn’t you?” Lance chuckled over the com, Pidge cracking up in the background.

“Shut up.” Keith said tersely, engaging the sword with the correct bayard.

Voltron’s sword blazed into life and the giant robot launched itself forward, Keith letting out a roar as he moved the sword through the front of one of the encroaching battleships, the resulting explosion making Keith grin viciously, the feeling reflected in Lance’s side of their deepened bond.

They made their way through the panicked fleet quickly, destroying or disabling as many ships as they possibly could. By the time they flew through the other end, Keith was staring at the torn side of Lotor’s flagship hungrily, a deeper want for destruction coming from Lance. Red and Blue hummed along the bond, their growls making the others antsy. “Are you two okay?” Hunk interrupted, the steadiness of his voice pulling both Lance and Keith out of the hole they had been digging together.

As Lance pulled back abruptly, Voltron’s internal stability shattered and Keith gasped when they disconnected from one another, the calm of the other paladins falling away. Keith was left with the sudden intensity of Lance’s panic, the confusion he felt at what was going on.

Keith’s heart fell as he realized what was going on at the other end of their bond.

They had drawn too far into one another, feeding off the vicious glee they had felt at tearing the ships apart. When Hunk had interrupted them, it had shocked Lance back to himself, the feeling making his already fragile mind ricochet.

Lance was having a panic attack.

Keith could feel it in his bones, the unmistakable feeling of sheer terror overtaking him as well. He could not stop the tremble in his hands, reaching out to mute himself in the group chat before opening a visual line with Lance.

The connection took a moment to load, Red’s damaged system exacerbated by the sudden, wrenching end to Voltron. When the screen finally loaded, Keith’s heart broke.

The boy he loved was curled into his pilot’s chair, lanky body somehow pulled into a ball, hands clasped over his altered ears.

He looked up when Keith inadvertently made a sound of distress, Lance’s cerulean eyes haunted.

“Oh, hey, buddy.” Lance said shakily, “Everything is all cool over here. Systems are green.”

Lance’s words cut at Keith and he curled his hands around his controls to contain his need to hold Lance.

“Lance.” Keith breathed, “What happened?”

Lance let out laugh, pushing himself out of his curled position with great difficulty, his desperation to regain his façade of normalcy transmitting itself through their bond. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t have to hide from me, Lance. I don’t think any less of you for not being okay.” Keith murmured, steering Red so that she faced a defensive Blue, “I just want to know how I can help.”

As Lance remained silent, Keith inwardly cursed. Was that wrong? Did he push too hard?

Dammit.

He was no good at this type of thing.

While Keith stewed, a small sniffle caught his attention, eyes darting immediately to his lover on the other screen.

“The stuff we were feeling while fighting.” Lance started, eyes turned to the side, “I’ve never really been…violent, like that. I wanted to hurt them, to repay what was done to me. When Hunk pulled us out of it, I felt like a monster.”

Keith wanted to jump to his defense immediately but he held himself back, gazing at the other paladin softly. A part of him was sure that a defense was not what Lance needed right now. “I can imagine that was pretty scary. Is that what made you panic?”

Lance nodded wordlessly and Keith filed the information away for later, a reminder to have a long conversation with Lance about this when both of them were back to 100%. “I don’t think you’re a monster, Lance. You were hurt by these people. I think most people would react a lot more harshly than you did. Sure, the Galra hurt you but you still saved Maia and Kore. You still love me despite the fact that I look like them.” Keith consoled, taking heart when the tension seemed to lift from Lance’s shoulders.

There was no way that Keith would ever be a monster. Keith would fight anyone who even insinuated such a thing.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” Lance said, voice breathy and tight.

Keith could feel his face flush at Lance’s words, ducking his head sheepishly for a moment before returning his gaze to the Blue Paladin. “You deserve the world, Lance. I can only do my best to give it to you.”

A wide grin split Lance’s face and he chuckled. “When did you get so smooth, mullet?”

Pouting at the tease, Keith flipped him the bird. “Screw you, I’ve always been this smooth.”

“Sorry, babe,” Lance trilled, voice thick with laughter, “But you were about as smooth as a playground slide.”

Smiling as Lance laughed, Keith let himself relax, still conscious of the not entirely okay feelings still dwelling in Lance’s side of the bond.

Their eyes met and Lance’s affection was abruptly replaced by alarm.

“Keith, look out!”

Red groaned under the controls, her damaged systems making her slow to respond. Keith grew increasingly agitated as he watch Lance slam forward on his own controls, Blue leaping towards Red with a roar.

Sensing his panic, Red flicked the group chat back on, the others paladins abruptly yelling into the group com.

“They aren’t responding!” Hunk cried, the sound of his distress making Keith even more worried.

What was coming that he couldn’t see?

Blue crashed into Red harshly, the two lions sailing out of the way of an ion cannon blast.

Fear tied Keith’s guts into knots at the close call, relief filling him before a blinding pain lit up his side. The absence of blood let him know that it was Lance’s pain once more.

He desperately looked to Lance’s screen, ignoring Shiro’s insistent calls for them to check in.

The psychic pain ebbed to a dull ache and Keith fought down the urge to rip the universe to shreds as he looked at his lover.

Lance was curled deeply into his chair again, this time favoring the side with his injured rib, hands pressing against it, arms slick with blood.

Lance’s rib had punctured the skin.

Their eyes met for a moment before Lance’s glowed that unholy blue, the Blue Lion immediately jumping into action.

She flew around Red, barreling towards the Castle at a break-neck speed.

“Lance! Where are you going?” Shiro called, the sound of his voice jolting Keith out of his shock.

“Lance is hurt, Shiro!” He hissed into the com, Red turning slowly under his hands, “He needs a pod immediately. It looks like his broken rib punctured the skin. I don’t know if anything else is wrong. Blue just kind of took over.”

A visual link blinked open on his dash, Allura leaning over Shiro’s shoulder, her eyes wide. “We’ll contact Coran and have him meet Lance in the hangar. Everyone return to the Castle. The other ships shouldn’t be able to follow us now. We’ll have time to wormhole away.”

Shiro nodded at her words, meeting Keith’s eyes with only the slightest of flinches. “You heard her. Are you going to be able to keep up?”

“Red didn’t take the disconnect well. She isn’t responding quickly.” Keith rushed, Pidge and Hunk ominously quiet on the other lines.

“I’ll have Black grab Red.” Shiro said solemnly, the soft murmur of Allura’s voice in the background giving Keith a modicum of comfort.

She would make sure that his Lance would be alright.

Hunk spoke up at last, his voice tight. “I contacted Liyana. She’s gonna follow after us and give us cover fire. It should be enough to get us as far away from here as possible.”

“Good thinking, Hunk.” Shiro praised, the words almost seeming far away as Black grabbed onto Red, space flying by them quickly.

Keith didn’t really care about what was going on with the mysterious Galra commander who had decided to help them. No, his mind was far ahead, concentrated on the Blue Lion that was disappearing into the hangar.

The rest of the Lions touched down not much longer after Blue, Keith tearing out of Red’s cockpit, engaging the emergency open to escape Red’s jaws. He sprinted down the hall, the footsteps of the others following after him.

A feather light set of steps split off at the bridge, the castle humming to immediate life at their departure. Two heavy sets followed after him, light taps trailing after them. He slid into the medical bay, heart clenching in his chest as he saw Coran leaning over a bloody Lance, a deep frown on his face.

“I don’t know if we have to time to put him in a suit.” Coran said, looking up to meet Keith’s eyes stalwartly, “There’s internal damage as well.”

“What are you waiting for?” Keith whispered, frozen in the doorway of the med bay, eyes refusing to leave Lance’s unnaturally still form.

Coran gave Keith a pained look before pressing a button on Lance’s gurney, the floating bed moving just as quickly as he did. Keith followed after the bed, the others standing back by the entrance to the pod room. They passed by a peaceful looking Maia, the tiny form of Kore sleeping fitfully beside the pod.

One of the pods opened at their approach and Keith moved to Coran’s side before he registered the idea, helping the Altean man lift Lance from the gurney. They settled him against the padded back, the blood from his wound coming to stain their hands.

It took everything in Keith to step back and let Coran close the lid, the technology immediately humming to life, cool air making Lance’s hair wave.

He watched the pod for a moment longer before he sagged to the ground, adrenaline leaving him abruptly. His shoulder, ribs and back ached, his injuries immediately demanding his attention now that Lance was safe. Now that he was going to be okay.

Coran gave him a stern look before hauling him to his feet, Shiro coming to his other side to assist. “You need a few vargas in a pod too, young man.”

Keith struggled weakly, looking over to where Lance was. “I want to be here when he wakes up. I don’t want to miss it.”

“Your injuries are far less than extensive than his, Number Four.” Coran said brightly, “You’ll be out much quicker than he will. I have no doubts about that.”

Ceasing his struggles with a sigh, Keith acquiesced, letting Coran and Shiro lead him to another pod in the room, one with a clear sight of Lance. He climbed into it gingerly, laying against the padded back with a sigh. “You’re sure everything will be fine?” He questioned once more, an uneasiness coming to haunt him.

“I promise.” Shiro said seriously, his eyebrows furrowed, “Everything is going to be just fine, Keith.”

With that, Coran closed the lid over him, the pod immediately cooling and emitting the gas to keep him knocked out until it declared him healed. It worked quickly, putting him into a half-dreamlike state before he could really register that any time had passed.

Just before the darkness overtook him, he let his eyes linger on Lance’s pod.

Unconsciousness washed over him just as an insistent beeping came from it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've just kind of accepted that I'm a bad person.  
> Anyway, next chapter will be the last chapter. I'm out of class now, for a week and a half anyway lol, so the wait for the last chapter shouldn't be nearly as bad as this one.  
> I just want to say that I've been really thankful for all the support I've gotten on this fic and a special shoutout to my bestie and beta, Kate. She threw a lot of food at me over this chapter guys.  
> Thanks for reading and feel free to scream at me in the comments. Caps lock is the way to my heart guys.


	7. The Road From Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even with Lance's rescue, the battle isn't over. The team heals and Lance confronts his new demons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my sweet, sweet baby Jesus guys. This is literally the longest thing I have ever written and it's finally done.  
> It's been an honor flying with you guys, enjoy the final chapter of Songbird.

Kore jerked awake at the insistent blare of an alarm, panicking as she scrambled on the slick floor.

What was happening? Did the Prince make someone mad again? Did she and Mama need to hide under the hygiene pods again?

As her sensitive eyes adjusted to the brighter lights of the room, she felt her heart lift, remembering the series of events that led to her lying beside her mother’s pod in the unfamiliar room.

Lance had come through. He had really saved them!

She looked around the far more crowded room, peering curiously at the two other humans that crowded the entrance of the room, their faces drawn in concern. A frown pulled at Kore’s mouth and she gave a quick glance up to the pod that her mother rested in.

Why did they look so scared? Wasn’t everything okay?

Resting her head briefly against the side of Mama’s pod for a moment, Kore toddled over to the pod where Keith sat, unsure of what to make of all the people suddenly rushing into the room, their voices overly loud to her ears.

“What’s going on?” The large one called, a pretty yellow color on his uniform, the armor declaring him to be a paladin, “Why is it beeping? Every experience I’ve had with the medical field tells me that a beeping like that is not good!”

Kore followed his gaze to another pod, one directly across from Keith friend. Her little heart dropped when she recognized the figure within, the pearly white of bone sticking out from his side and the lights in his pod flashing in alarm.

What was the matter with Lance friend?

Abruptly scared, Kore scampered forward, sidling up beside the Yellow Paladin’s leg, inadvertently coming to cling as she tried to see what was going on.

“The pod isn’t recognizing Lance.” The tall man with the orange hair said, a note of panic in his voice making Kore’s fur stand on end, “It doesn’t make any sense. With as often as each of you have used these, they should be perfectly calibrated to your genetic code.”

“We need to figure something out.” Shiro responded, his previously friendly voice tight and making Kore uneasy.

The paladin friends were upset. Something was wrong with Lance friend, something bad.

The Yellow Paladin looked down at her askance as her little claws scratched against his leg plates, his face kind and dark brown eyes warm. She looked up at him helplessly, eyes tearing up at the brightness of the room. He held his hands out carefully and Kore let go of his leg armor, stretching her arms upward so that he could pick her up.

She gave him a scrutinizing stare, filing away the differences between him and Lance for later. They really did look very different. If Lance was a noodle, this paladin was a battering ram, built sturdy and made to last. In contrast to his large hands and intimidating bulk, the paladin had a gentle face and Kore snuggled up against him before looking back to where the orange man was typing frantically at his computer.

“Is Lance friend going to be alright?” She said quietly, eyes locked on Lance’s still figure in the healing pod.

“We have to believe that he will be.” The Yellow Paladin replied, the deep rumble of his voice helping to calm Kore’s anxiety.

She turned back to the flashing pod and the rushing figures of Shiro and the orange man. Another paladin came to stand beside Yellow, much tinier than the others. They had a pretty color on their armor, one that Kore didn’t recognize.

There weren’t many colors in the trophy room after all.

They gave Kore a look and she cocked her head as she looked at them, trying to sniff at them as sneakily as possible. The scent of fear in the room overpowered everything else and she lifted her eyes to meet those of the tiny paladin. Their brownish eyes looked at Kore critically for a moment before they lit up in realization, turning their gaze to where Lance-friend was beginning to wake, blood coming to soak his side from where the pearly white poked through.

“What if they changed his genetic code?” The tiny paladin offered, their voice making both Shiro and the orange man stop.

“Is that even possible?” The Yellow Paladin said hesitantly, his deep brown eyes locked on Lance friend’s pod.

“We pilot giant sentient Lions that can magically come together to form a giant robot.” The tiny Paladin said dryly, her voice making Kore stifle a giggle, “I think genetic splicing is within reason.”

“Your sarcasm is not appreciated, Pidge.” The Yellow Paladin returned, a hint of anxiety in his voice.

Kore looked down at the Pidge, pursing her lips at the name before returning her gaze to Lance friend. The orange man paused in his work, eyebrows furrowed and strange mustache twitching. “I hope for Lance’s sake that that isn’t the case.” He said sadly, the tone of his voice making Kore’s chest slightly achy, “Shiro, be ready to catch him. The pod is going to have to eject him for a moment while I recalibrate it for a new patient. It isn’t recognizing him as Lance right now so it’s rejecting him. It’s a safety feature of the pods to keep extraneous treatments to a minimum. I’m just worried that something won’t get fixed right without Lance’s baseline stats.”

“We don’t really have much of a choice right now, Coran.” Shiro replied, weariness in his voice, “Lance is really hurt right now.”

“You were hoping it would do something about the changes, weren’t you?” The Yellow Paladin asked tightly, his words making the room go awkwardly silent.

Kore fidgeted in the silence, guilt still wracking her over the changes. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, “His teeth.”

The Yellow Paladin looked down at her gently, one of his massive hands patting her on the back. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. None of this is your fault.”

Fat tears welled in Kore’s eyes and she watched the Coran fiddle with the pod once more, the glass flying up abruptly and letting Lance tilt forward, his trajectory halted by Shiro’s steady arms. Fingers flying across his screen, Coran stared intently at the strange symbols that flew past, the pods alarms abruptly going quiet and a steady hum coming from the machine.

The Yellow Paladin let her sit high in his arms, his grip firm but not nearly as tight as Mama’s tended to get when she was scared. From her vantage point, she could see Shiro’s face looking very pale as the weird red color that humans bled came to cover his hands from where Lance friend’s rib had poked through his dusky skin.

Kore frowned at how dull his pretty tattoos were, his brown skin looking weirdly chalky. His hair drooped and blood crusted the front of his throat, dirty bandages failing in covering the slashes. Lance friend didn’t look very good and it made Kore feel sick to her stomach.

Would Lance friend really be okay?

Finally the pod dinged and Coran let out a cry of triumph, moving to Shiro’s side to help him maneuver Lance into the pod. The glass came down quickly, a bright light scanning Lance from head to toe, results pinging up on the screen Coran had been tapping away on.

The Pidge Paladin walked over to Shiro, their face soft. They put a small hand on his shoulder, pulling him out of his head. Kore’s eyes widened in realization and let out a small bit of her chirpy purr, distress filling her. Shiro friend got lost in his head sometimes, just like Lance had when he drank the bad stuff. Did Shiro drink the bad stuff too?

The Yellow Paladin deflated abruptly as he was holding her and Kore looked to him in concern, her purr starting up again when she saw tears making their way down his face. “Why are you crying?” She said in distress, patting at his cheeks.

“I’m happy.” The paladin replied, his words only serving to confuse Kore further.

“Why do you cry if you’re happy?”

“My best friend is back and he’s going to be okay.” Yellow breathed, pulling Kore into a firm hug.

She melted into the hug instantly, a chirp of delight leaving her. He gave such wonderful hugs!

“Well, he’ll be healed at the very least.” Coran reminded, his voice heavy with relief.

An undercurrent of worry wove through his tone and Kore mourned the loss of the paladin’s hug when he returned to their previous positions, his eyes locked upon Coran. “What’s bothering you?”

“It’s just….the pods wouldn’t have rejected him unless there was a significant change. I’m going to see if I can analyze a bit of his DNA to see what changed, if anything.” Coran huffed, shaking his head regretfully, “It could have more lasting consequences than we realize, Hunk my boy. Lance has a long road to recovery ahead of him.”

“He’ll have all of us here to help him.” Hunk said seriously, “I won’t let him suffer alone. Not if I can help it.”

Kore gave a chirp in assent, nodding her head in time with Hunk’s words. “I love Lance friend! I don’t want him to hurt!”

A badly stifled coo from the human beneath her made Kore frown and she looked down at him with a single eyebrow raised. The look in his eyes made her pause and she cocked her head to the side. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just that you’re literally one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen?” Hunk chuckled, his face flushing, “You definitely remind me of Lance’s little sister.”

Kore hummed at the compliment, her ears fluttering. She didn’t get very many of those after all.

The pod made a questioning beep and the mood in the pod room abruptly soured, the three humans all looking to the glass tube anxiously. Coran tapped through several dialogue boxes on his screen, his face falling and eyes glassy.

“What’s wrong?” The Pidge Paladin demanded, her hand steady on Shiro’s shoulder.

Kore looked at the two of them curiously before realization filled her. The little paladin was still helping Shiro to come out of his head. The blood on his hands must have made him run inside. Kore didn’t blame him.

Human blood was a scary color.

Pulling himself together, Shiro moved back to his feet, the effort clearly taxing him more than he wanted to let on. “Talk to us, Coran. We can’t do anything to help if you keep us out of the loop.”

“The pod just finished its preliminary scan.” Coran said heavily, “It didn’t recognize Lance because it’s registering a hybrid creature. There are at traces of at least four different species, although the majority remains human. The pod was asking if we wanted to freeze the abnormal DNA but there was a warning attached.”

“Four different species?” The Pidge Paladin breathed, the fight leaving their shoulders abruptly, “But…but why would they do that? How did they even do that without breaking down the internal integrity of Lance’s DNA? There had to be different nucleic acids between the different species at the very least! His body should have rejected it!”

“Unless they had a druid do it.” Shiro said darkly, “I don’t know what it is about their magic but sometimes it can overcome our bodies’ natural reactions to foreign materials.”

His remaining human hand curled over the metal of his other arm and Kore looked at the metallic appendage curiously. It definitely stank of druidic magic, a smell that had always made Mama especially scared and snarly.

The more Kore heard about druids, the less she liked them.

The Yellow Paladin adjusted her in his arms, the motion drawing Kore out of her thoughts. “You said there was a warning attached. What kind of warning, Coran?”

The orange man sighed heavily, casting a look at Lance friend, his face drawn in sadness. The inside of the pod was frosty and Lance’s tattoos glowed a dim, pulsating blue just a few shades darker than the ice that was crystalizing around the top. “If we were to freeze the abnormal strains of Lance’s DNA, we would lose him. It seems that the gene splicing had been done in order to save his life.”

The three humans went quiet and Kore frowned at them. Why did they seem so sad? Sure, she didn’t really understand what they were talking about with the DNA or whatever but shouldn’t they be happy that Lance would live? That out of the multitude of things that Lotor had done to him, there was one thing that was put in there to save his life?

Kore simply couldn’t understand.

“Why are you all so sad?” She asked aloud, “Lance friend will live.”

The paladins looked at her, each of them blinking in confusion at her words. “Yeah…” The Pidge Paladin said slowly, “But, he’s not completely human anymore. He’s going to be devastated when he finds out.”

Realization lit up Shiro’s features and he looked to Lance’s pod, his eyes wide. “Something tells me that Lance already knows. He had said something about the Skaridia and damage before telling us that Lotor had decided to keep him alive.”

“Please tell me that something horrifying happened to Lotor.” Hunk said viciously, the tone of his voice making Kore nod in approval.

“Lance friend was covered in Galra blood when he came to find us.” Kore chirped helpfully, patting the Yellow Paladin on the shoulder, “Either it came from the Prince or one of the guards.”

“Is it unsettling anyone else to hear a little kid say that?” The Pidge Paladin muttered to Shiro, the words making Kore giggle.

“Her mother is an assassin.” Shiro said succinctly, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

Pidge nodded as if all their questions had been answered and Kore let her tail wave happily.

She liked these people.

The orange man at the controls barked out a stilted laugh, one hand coming to cover his watery eyes. “The little lady surely has a point. Lance is going to live.” He smiled, letting a glassy blue eye wink at Kore, “I’ll have the pod try to decipher what exactly got spliced into his genome in the background. By the time he comes out of the pod, we should have an idea of what to tell him in terms of what species he shares his genes with.”

“We should throw him a party when he gets out.” Hunk said quietly, “I know we’re all a lot beat up and messed up over him being gone, but he won’t want us to hover. A little party should make us all feel better.”

“I’m going to hijack your party idea.” The Pidge said craftily, “We all need a flipping intervention. You’re all a bunch of angst and I think we need to get it off our chest.”

“I’m not a bunch of angst.” Hunk protested, Kore giggling at the affronted look on his face.

“Hunk, you are an angel of this galaxy and none of us deserve you.” Pidge replied, her words strangely heart-felt, “But the rest of us are a reeking cesspool of angst and misunderstandings. You need to help me mediate.”

Hunk hummed at the other paladin’s words, the sound making Kore purr in return. “Alright, deal. I’m in. I’ll even see if I can make cookies. Nothing says intervention like cookies.”

Kore’s purr cut off abruptly and she looked down at the paladin that held her. “What’s a cookie?”

An outraged gasp came from the paladin holding her and she abruptly found herself being held between his wide hands, feet dangling. “You have never had a cookie?”

“Are they food?” She asked, cocking her head to the side, “What do they taste like? Are they good?”

“Shiro. Shiro! This is a travesty.” Hunk cried, Kore still dangling between his hands, “This is a child who has never had a cookie! Come on, little lady. I’m about to change your entire life.”

Giggling at his exuberance, Kore wiggled out of his hands, landing on the floor soundlessly, just like Mama taught her. “Okay! Just let me do something real quick.”

Hunk gaped at her escape for a moment before his jaw clicked closed, nodding at her with a smile. Sure that Hunk would wait for her, Kore turned back to the pod in front of her. She padded up to the pod that Lance laid in, pressing her head against it. The glass was cold against her face and she let out a chirpy purr. “Please wake up soon, Lance friend!” She said quietly, “I want you to feel better.”

A choked noise left the paladin behind her and Kore turned her head to the orange man, toddling over to hug his leg, his hand patting at her hair gently. “Thank you for taking care of Mama, Coran.” She said, looking at him with her eyes slitted, the lights of the pod room still making her eyes smart, “And for making sure that Lance friend will be alright. He’s been hurting.”

The pointy eared man’s smile turned brittle for a moment before he sighed heavily, his eyes sad. “I can only imagine what he went through.”

Kore butted her head against his leg once more before turning back to the other two humans, their eyes locked on her. She clambered over to the Pidge human, planting her fists on her hips. “I don’t know what a party is, but can I help?”

She could see Pidge’s eyes soften, the already tiny human crouching down so they were on the same level. “Of course you can help. We’ll need all the help we can get.”

Beaming at the paladin, Kore reached up to tap the strange color on their shoulders. “Is this color called Pidge?”

“No, Pidge is my name.” Pidge laughed, “That color is green. I’m the Green Paladin.”

Kore nodded in understanding, looking at the color intently. “I like green a lot. Not as much as I like blue though. My name is Kore.”

“Sheesh, did Lance just straight up adopt you or something?” Pidge grinned, patting Kore on the shoulder, “Don’t worry, Kore. He’s safe now and so are you. We won’t let anything happen to you, promise.”

Solemnly, Kore inclined her head. “The paladins of Voltron have kept all their promises to me so I believe you.”

Pidge’s eyebrows flew up into their wild hair and Shiro chuckled. Kore turned her head to the tall human, her head craned back as far as she could to see his face. “Shiro friend, do you think Lance friend will go into his head like you do? He did it a couple times on the Skaridia. He’d go under the ocean and talk to the cats in his head. Do you talk to cats in your head?”

“Cats?” Shiro queried, his eyes lighting up for a moment, “The Lions? We all speak to our Lions. They’re bonded with us.”

“They can talk to you!?” Kore exclaimed, “But they’re robots!”

“They’re also alive.” Pidge added, Kore’s mouth dropping open at their words.

“As for Lance going inside his head…” Shiro began, looking at Lance’s pod regretfully, “Everyone deals with trauma differently. If he does suffer from the same problems I do, I’ll do everything in my power to help him through it.”

“Best Space Dad.” Hunk grinned, his words making Shiro grimace.

“Do not get Lance started on that.”

“Hate to break it to you, Shiro, but Lance _started_ that. There is no way he won’t jump on the bandwagon when he was already the one driving.” Pidge cackled, confusion filling Kore’s face.

“Space Dad? Are you Lance’s father? You don’t look anything like Lance!”

Shiro groaned, moving to drag his hands down his face before he registered the blood still covering them. He moved his hands back to his sides awkwardly before giving Hunk a stern look. “I’m not Lance’s father, Kore. The paladins like to tease me that I’m their ‘Space Dad’. Probably because I keep them out of trouble.”

He sent a pointed look to both Hunk and Pidge, the two of them whistling innocently. Kore’s ears perked up at the sound and she poked Pidge in the leg. “What is that noise?”

“A whistle?”

“That’s what that’s called?”

Pidge smiled down at her, eyes sparkling with mischief. “There are all kinds of things that we can show you, Kore. We’re gonna have so much fun when Lance wakes up.”

Kore beamed up at the Green Paladin, nodding exuberantly before scurrying past the two humans to where Mama rested in her pod, her fur already looking better than it had in ages. She pressed her head against the glass, just as she did with Lance. Keeping her words inside, Kore looked up at Mama’s peaceful face and sighed gratefully.

Thanks to these paladins, Mama wouldn’t have to work for Lotor anymore. They could do whatever they wanted, go wherever they wanted.

Kore couldn’t wait to see what worlds laid beyond Lotor’s trophy room.

She wished Mama luck in her mind, a little purr leaving her before she made her way over to Keith’s pod, the gashes in his suit making Kore a little scared.

Keith was really strong and Kore wanted to be just like him. He made Lance friend happy and he was half-Galra like her!

It was strange to meet a half-Galra who wasn’t Lotor. Keith felt like kin to her and she let her claws click on the glass of his pod for a moment before dipping her head in respect.

“Please feel better soon, Keith friend.” She murmured, “I have a lot I want to ask you!”

Satisfied that everyone in the room had been addressed, Kore turned back to Hunk, planting her hands on her hips just like Mama did.

“I am ready for my cookies now!”

The Yellow Paladin laughed before walking across the room to her, picking her up with ease. “Your wish is my command. To the kitchen!”

Kore joined in his war cry, her small voice warbling in unison with Hunk’s, the white walls of the castle passing them by.

The whole time, Kore did not look back.

Mama had taught her it was bad luck, after all.

~~~~

Hours passed after the paladins had followed after Hunk, the tiny Galra child inspiring happiness in them all. Coran had been left alone with the pods, his heart heavy and spirit weary.

So much had been done to the Blue Paladin. He didn’t even know where to begin.

He took a seat in the med bay, resting his head in his hands as he looked over the scans on his tablet, the characters unmoving despite everything.

 Coran wanted so badly to be wrong but the scans had never led him astray before.

There were changes down to the very genetic level of Lance’s cells. There was evidence of damage to the repair and replication functions and Coran could clearly see where the other genes were spliced in. Lance would appear normal for now but as the years passed, he would begin to reflect the characteristics of the different species that were smashed into his genome.

And if the war didn’t kill all of them, Lance would have many, many more years to pass.

Coran gazed over his tablet once more, scrolling down to where the pod detailed the species that it detected in Lance’s genetic code. He was still predominantly human with an approximate 92% of his DNA matching what it had before. The spliced genes were largely Galra and Coran clenched his teeth at that.

It was enough to get Lance in and out of Galra facilities and the percentage would only grow larger as Lance aged, the Galra genes replicating throughout Lance’s system as slowly as the orbit of an ice planet. They would probably sit at their 5% for a few years before Lance would see any visible changes. The other three species shared the remaining 3% equally and Coran forced himself to scroll on, not wanting to see the proof that he feared.

The paragraphs detailing the other species made Coran’s heart clench painfully and he could feel his eyes well once more. In addition to the Galra, Lance shared DNA with a species of warlike gladiators that the Galra had long since driven extinct: the Vraskyl.

It likely accounted for the other bit of resilience that Lance had displayed in terms of his injuries. The preliminary scans had shown a great deal of internal damage to his stomach and ribs, evidence of earlier trauma to both those areas. Coran could only imagine what exactly had happened to Lance to cause such horrific damage.

Lotor had always had a terrible temper, after all.

There was also a percentage that belonged the Merpeople of the planet that Lance and Hunk had crashed into after their first fight with Zarkon. It likely wouldn’t have any effect for a while but Lance’s already stellar abilities in the water would probably receive a boost. It wasn’t to the point that he’d develop the gills and tail that were so indicative of the species, but his oxygen capacity would be greatly increased as well as his swimming abilities.

Finally, Coran scrolled down to the final species, almost unwilling to believe what he was reading. The remaining one percent of Lance’s changed DNA was Altean.

He truly matched what he looked like, if only a little bit.

Coran closed his eyes, pushing the tablet away from him. This was worse than simply making Lance appear Altean. There was a part of the Blue Paladin that truly reflected his new appearance and Coran didn’t know how to feel.

A part of him was overwhelmingly distraught and he cursed Lotor for pushing this on Lance, even if it was partially responsible for saving Lance’s life. Altean DNA was exceptionally versatile, especially given their shape shifting abilities. Its tiny 1% made up the base for all of the other species.

Without the Altean DNA, it is unlikely that Lance’s body would not have accepted the others. They would have lost him before they had even gotten the chance to get close to him.

Taking a deep breath, Coran centered himself, unwilling to get lost in a spiral of sadness and anger. Lance was alive because of what was done and the least he could do was give the blue boy the support and appreciation he would need when he came out of the pod.

If anything, this brought Lance closer to the remaining Alteans. Coran smiled softly at the idea of teaching Lance about Altea and the culture of the people he now shared DNA with. In return, Coran would make every effort to learn about Lance’s culture, especially the language the Castle had been unable to translate.

They would not make the same mistake again.

An insistent beeping came from the pod room once more and Coran jolted up from his chair, worry making him move much faster than he normally did. If the pod rejected Lance again, he wasn’t sure what he could do. They didn’t have the necessary materials on board the ship for a full surgical procedure and none of them had the requisite training or skills to fix the damage done to Lance.

Coran wasn’t sure if they could do anything at all.

He skidded into the room, relief almost making him trip over his own feet as he saw the Galra woman’s pod coming open, her golden eyes fluttering open. She stumbled out of the pod, one hand coming to her newly healed stomach, her steps evening out before Coran could reach her.

She looked around the room curiously, a bit of tension coming to her shoulders when she caught sight of Coran. “You are Altean.” She said simply, “We are safe?”

Coran nodded, unsure of how to proceed at the moment. “Are you feeling well? You haven’t been in the pod very long. We managed to wormhole as far away from Lotor’s fleet as we could but that has been a few vargas ago. We’ve been searching for a safe place to recover.”

The woman nodded, her eyes searching the room. Anxiety was visible in the line of her shoulders and Coran tried to keep his words and actions soothing. “If you’re looking for your kit, she’s in the kitchen with the paladins. I’m afraid they’re spoiling her quite rotten.”

At the mention of her child, the Galra woman relaxed, her eyes flicking between the two paladins encased in their healing pods. “It seems my fearless rescuers needed healing.”

“These two have been in the pods more than any of the others. They’re a bit impulsive.” Coran chuckled, forcing himself to look at Lance.

Lance may look like an Altean but he couldn’t hold that against him. He could only do his best to help Lance embrace his new appearance. Maybe he could unofficially adopt him.

A grin stretched his face at the thought, the Galra woman looking at him in confusion before following his gaze. “Please don’t be too harsh on him.” She said abruptly, “He fought very hard against what Lotor had planned for him. He even killed the druid who changed him before going on a rampage throughout the ship. His bravery was very inspiring.”

Coran shook his head slowly, grin yet to abate. “That certainly sounds like our Lance.”

“From what I was told, it sounds more like his mate.” She murmured, turning her gaze to Keith’s pod, “He is quite ignorant of his heritage, is he not?”

“Keith only found out that he was part Galra a short time ago. It wasn’t until we made contact with the Blade of Marmora that he even had an opportunity to learn.” Coran shrugged, tapping away on the center console, the used pod sinking into the floor, “His genetics started displaying themselves not long after.”

The woman nodded sagely, taking a few soundless steps over to Keith’s pod, “It is strange for a half-Galra to have gone so long without displaying traits of his heritage. Of course, circumstances were probably very different for Keith. Kore began displaying traits at birth. Perhaps it was the trauma of the situation that drove his genetics to respond at last. Being separated from one’s mate, especially so soon after the creation of the bond, is difficult.”

Humming in understanding at her words, Coran crossed his arms over his chest. “Actually, Keith doesn’t know what is going one between him and Lance. I haven’t had the chance to give him an idea and we’ve had no luck in tracking down his mother.”

A frown graced her features and she turned back to Coran incredulously. “His bearer abandoned him?”

“Bearer?”

“All Galra can bear if the situation calls for it.” She said succinctly, “It merely refers to the partner in the bond who carried and bore their kits. You may be right though, he did have the faintest scent of a female around him. Perhaps you have encountered her recently? She wouldn’t have any scent upon him unless they’d been in contact in some way.”

Coran curled his hand around his chin as he thought, mustache twitching. “The only female Galra that we have come into contact with include you and the…Blade of Marmora spy.”

“Something tells me that perhaps you have had some luck in tracking down Keith’s mother.” The woman smirked, letting her claws click against Keith’s pod, “However, if she still proves to be…unwilling to take up her duties, I will instruct the paladin in his heritage. I instructed his mate, after all.”

“So Lance knows?”

“I told Lance when I first met him.” She replied, “He has known almost from the start. It has been a rough road for him and he’s held back a lot in order to keep from deepening their connection too quickly. He didn’t want to let Lotor get his hands on Keith. His devotion is something to be envied, Keith is a very lucky mate.”

“That makes this slightly easier, I suppose.” Coran hummed, “It’s still going to be exceptionally embarrassing for both of them.”

She laughed at that, her voice surprising Coran for how young it sounded. “You aren’t wrong there. Even explaining what little I could to Lance was beyond embarrassing. I had hoped to have a bit more time before I had to give that particular conversation. Kore is far too young for all that.”

“If I may ask, how old is your kit?” Coran asked curiously, walking up to the still shaky Galra woman, offering his arm chivalrously.

Looking at him askance for a moment, she let her hand hesitantly rest on the offered arm, accepting his support as they made their way out of the pod room and into the far more comfortable med bay. He let her take a seat on one of the beds, taking a scanner from one of the docks. “My Kore had just passed five years not too long ago. She was still a baby when Lotor captured us. I can’t tell you how happy I am that she won’t have to spend her life in that room.”

Coran let a smile tug at his mouth, setting up the scanner so that he could make sure that their newest guest was back to full health. “I’m afraid that Keith had never gotten around to telling me your name.” He tutted, the scan resolving itself rather quickly.

“I am Maia.”

Coran bowed deeply to Maia, looking back up with a sparkle. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Maia. I am Coran, mechanic of the Castle of Lions and advisor to Princess Allura.”

Maia giggled but inclined her head regally, resting her hands in her lap. “Is the princess okay with our presence here?” She asked hesitantly, “I do not wish to impose upon her if our presence is too painful.”

Coran’s heart went out to the young woman in front of him, the set of her shoulders and the gleam to her eyes letting him know that if he but said the word, both she and her child would disappear. “You have no worries about that. Even if you hadn’t helped to save Lance, Allura wouldn’t boot you from the ship simply for being Galra. You may share species with our enemy but you are still someone in need of help.”

Relief flooded her features and Coran took a seat across from her, letting his hands rest upon his knees. “That being said, if you could help us out in whatever way you see fit, we would appreciate it. At the end of the day, we are only seven people trying to take down an empire that has lasted 10,000 years.” Coran said seriously, meeting her eyes.

“I would say that you have been successful.” Maia replied, a note of suspicion in her voice, “What could you possibly expect from me?”

Coran pulled back, noticing immediately that she had gone on the defensive. He waved his arms in distress as he tried desperately to bring back their more cordial mood. “We don’t want anything from you. Most of the time we just ask to keep a flow of information between us and the people we come to rescue. It is a big universe after all and communication is important if we’re to have any chance of defeating Zarkon.”

A sheepish look came to her face and she cleared her throat almost awkwardly. “I apologize. I thought perhaps you wanted something along the lines of my previous role.”

“I must admit, my dear, that I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Coran said in confusion, lifting one bushy brow.

“Before I met my mate and abandoned the Empire, I was employed doing more stealth work.” Maia responded carefully, “To put it simply, I was given a name and it was my job to make that name disappear.”

Coran’s eyebrows flew up in realization and he nodded. “I will take that to heart, Maia, but I can assure you that we would never ask something like that of you.”

Maia blinked at him in surprise before her eyes narrowed. “You just said that you needed help against the Empire and then you tell me that you would never ask me to kill people for you, despite knowing what I did?”

“It isn’t assassins that we need.” Coran consoled, keeping his voice steady, “What we have been trying to build is a network to catch the fragments when we finally take down the Galra Empire. It’s been more of a personal project, you see. I know that not every Galra supports Zarkon, just as not every Altean had been supportive of Alfor and the war we engaged in against your people. This war will end one day and we need to think about what we’re going to do at that point.”

He stood slowly, ignoring the slight pang in his lower back from where he had been scrunched over the tablet from earlier. “I’ve been trying to gather a network of communication in the event of the war ending. We would need to act fast and with precision to restructure the Galra held worlds and to find a better way of taking down the Empire.”

Casting Maia a look, he flailed when he noticed her smiling at him, understanding in her gaze. “Your Blue Paladin had been speaking of such matters to me, not long after I met him. He was also worrying about the fate of the people without Zarkon’s structure. If you haven’t included him in this project, it may be wise to do so.” She counseled, before she sat back, resting her weight on her palms, “As for me, I will do what I can to help you, Advisor. There’s a lot that would have to be done if you manage to finally bring Zarkon down. I would be willing to take in others and teach them what I know of the Galra and their inner workings to take down Zarkon but I fear that I won’t be much help in terms of rebuilding. I was raised to be a killer, not a builder.”

“And yet, you raised Kore.” Coran argued softly, “Despite your training, despite everything that Zarkon had you believing, you rebelled against him and raised a kind and precious child. We will need people like that, Maia. You can show them that there are other ways to live than what Zarkon has taught.”

She huffed out a laugh and Coran grinned brilliantly at her. “You have quite a way with words, Coran. Very well. Count me in.”

Coran extended his hand, wincing a little at the sheer force behind her handshake. She laughed once more and pulled herself to her feet. “So, do I have a clean bill of health?”

Turning his gaze to the scanner in his hands, he skimmed the results before giving her thumbs up. “You look to be as healthy as a herd of yelmores.”

Her expression turned down and she looked at him curiously. “I can honestly say that I have no idea what those are.”

“They’re an old Altean ox. We used them to plow the fields.” Coran explained brightly, putting his arms up beside his head to simulate the horns, “Healthiest animals I’ve ever seen in my life. They could almost outlive their farmers.”

“So being as healthy as a yelmore is a good thing.” Maia said dryly, lifting one of her eyebrows.

“You got it!” Coran crowed, “After that shot you took, it’s a good thing too. It was quite the doozy.”

“A mother will do whatever is best for her children.” Maia returned, her statement certain as the grave, “I couldn’t let anything happen to Kore or Lance.”

“Lance?”

She flushed at that, her cheeks going a strange fuchsia. “We may have kind of adopted each other.” Maia coughed, “There was no way I was going to let him be hurt any more than he had been.”

Coran smiled at her knowingly, patting her on the shoulder. “He has that kind of effect on people. He’s like the nephew I never had.”

“Why a nephew?”

“The paladins have started referring to me as the Space Uncle.” Coran guffawed, “They’re good kids and we all do our best to take care of each other.”

“They are so young.” Maia said wistfully, “How, in good conscience, can we let them continue to fight such a war?”

“We didn’t let them do anything.” Coran responded, shoulders dropping with a heavy sigh, “They came to us. While we may have given them a purpose, ultimately they did stay of their own accord. They’re mostly old enough to make their own decisions on their home planet and we have to respect their determination.”

Maia purred in response, crossing her arms over her chest. “From what I know of Lance, his determination is very strong. I don’t think anything I say would even come close to talking him out of what he’s doing.”

Settling the scanner back into its place, Coran paced over to the door of the med bay. “You haven’t spent as much time with the other paladins. They’re all like that.”

“Zarkon doesn’t stand a chance.”

Coran laughed at her response, beginning to lead her down the halls to where the sounds of laughter could be heard from the kitchen, the bridge mostly silent.

He could only hope that Maia was right.

~~~~

Liyana sat back in her seat upon her bridge, breathing easier when the wormhole created by the Altean Princess spat them out in a safe sector of space. From what she could tell, they were several systems away from what was left of Lotor’s fleet and free from his pursuit for a while at the very least. The members of her crew looked to her expectantly, their hands stilled at their work.

Her second in command turned in his seat, yellow eyes hooded. “What now, Commander?” He queried, “There is no way we can go back to Lotor’s side.”

“At this point, we rest and recover. I will convene with the Paladins of Voltron and speak with Kolivan. From there we will determine what we can do. Do not despair. We are not done.”

Her speech was greeted with murmurs of assent, a few more enthusiastic whoops thrown in from her younger recruits. They filed from the bridge quietly, the ship programmed to followed the swift path of the Castle of Lions.

With a heavy sigh, Liyana slouched in her chair, pulling at the straps that held her armor so close to her throat. With it off, she yanked her locket from beneath her uniform, clicking it open to look longingly at the pictures inside.

Her son was with the Paladins of Voltron.

He was the feared Red Paladin, the fierce pilot of the Red Lion. She had seen his fire through their screen and her heart ached to be with him once more.

It was the hardest thing she had done in her entire life. When she left him behind it had felt like she’d torn out her soul and tossed it aside.

Galra did not separate from their kits easily, especially when they were as young as her Keith had been. Their species were built on their bonds with one another, whether that was the bond with their mates or the bonds with their children, it mattered not.

Even now she had to fight down the urge to fly to his side, her instincts demanding that she be there for him at last, especially after the blow she had dealt him regarding his young mate.

The thought of Keith’s mate made her heart clench painfully and she curled her claws around the chain of her locket. She had advised death for the mate of her son. Had Lotor actually followed her advice, her son would now suffer from the same fate that she had undergone.

Losing one’s mate was like nothing else. The closest that Liyana could approximate would be like trying to go through life while missing an integral limb. You could still feel the phantom sensations and you never forgot what it was like to have it but you knew there was no way you would get it back.

She could still remember the moment that she knew that James was dead. It was like a part of her had suddenly gone cold, the quiescent bond between their minds disappearing. She had reached into the void for years, nearly driving herself mad in the process. It was only the companionship and training that the Blade had provided that saved her.

If she had stayed with Keith, she may have gotten through it better. The focus on the life of her kit would have pulled her out of her grief but she couldn’t go back.

Not when she had almost led the Galra right to Earth.

Her mission had been simple in the beginning. She had been instructed by Zarkon to seek out the Blue Lion and her searches had brought her to the mostly backward planet of Earth. The Blade had been quite insistent that she take the assignment at any cost. She had utilized a druid’s aid to appear human but her quest to find the Blue Lion had not produced many results.

Ultimately, she was abandoned by her crew, the soldiers content to let her die on a foreign planet and move on to the next section of their search. It hadn’t been long after that that she met James.

They had fallen for one another rather quickly, all things considered.

He hadn’t even batted an eye when her disguise had finally worn off and she had loved him dearly for it. The years she had spent with James had been the happiest of her life and when Keith had been born she couldn’t imagine a life without either of them.

They would have gone on in peace if not for her blunder.

She had stumbled upon her old things, a need to gift her knife to her young kit driving her. Liyana hadn’t agreed with James’ stance on arming infants. Sometimes they had to be able to take care of themselves and Keith hadn’t really inherited her fangs or claws.

How was he supposed to defend himself?

While searching, she had set off an emergency beacon, the technology coming equipped with a view screen. A Galra commander had immediately accosted her and Liyana had had no choice.

She had to return or risk the Earth becoming the next site of Galra infiltration.

Her decision still haunted her and she let the locket snap closed in her hand, moving to her feet in a quick movement.

She still needed to contact Kolivan and sitting around reminiscing about the past wasn’t helping anyone.

Rushing through the largely deserted halls of the ship, Liyana returned to her personal chamber, opening the coded line between her ship and the Blade of Marmora once more.

Kolivan answered quickly, his eyes looking at her carefully. “I take it you were successful.”

“Why didn’t you tell me he was a Paladin?” Liyana demanded, her carefully crafted arguments thrown to the side in favor of sheer anger, “Why didn’t you tell me that my son was caught up in this war?”

“What would you have done if we had told you, Liyana?” Kolivan said harshly, “You could not have abandoned your post. Even now, we have to figure out what to do with you and your ship. Zarkon will not be able to overlook what you’ve done.”

“I had a right to know, Kolivan.” Liyana hissed, “I left him behind on Earth to keep him away from this war and then when I see him again, he’s right in the thick of it.”

“He is _your_ son, isn’t he?”

Liyana snarled at him, ignoring the teasing note to his voice. “You saw him. You interacted with him. He underwent the Trials.” She breathed, her chest feeling tight, “He snuck into Zarkon’s ship. He was there when Thace _died_. Kolivan, how could you keep this from me?”

Kolivan’s mask of indifference cracked for a moment and he had the grace to look a bit guilty. “He didn’t finish the Trials or he would have known about you. Knowledge or death, remember? He had been ready to give up your Blade to protect his friends. I wanted him to be ready to meet you.”

Liyana barked out a laugh. “Neither of us are ready to meet the other.” She said bitterly, “I had counseled Lotor to kill his mate. I was under the impression that Voltron could replace their paladins just as we replace our operatives but I made a mistake.”

Frowning deeply, Kolivan let out a rough breath. “You’re lucky they didn’t turn on you altogether, Liyana. They won’t trust you.”

“The Yellow one did.” Liyana murmured, “He also figured out that Keith was my kit within five minutes of talking to me.”

“You need to make real contact with them, Liyana.” Kolivan counseled, “We cannot afford to jeopardize our relationship with Voltron. Since their arrival we have made more progress than ever before. Make nice with them.”

“I cannot go to that ship, Kolivan. Not when Keith is there. How am I supposed to face him?”

“Like you’ve faced every other obstacle up to this point: with a fiery temper and unbreakable determination.” Kolivan chuckled, “It will be some time before we have another assignment for you, Liyana. Take the time you have.”

Liyana pursed her lips, crossing her arms over her chest. “I will make nice with the princess. And the other paladins.”

“That’s all we can ask for.” Kolivan sighed, “Remember, you represent the Blade while you are with them. Don’t let your temper get the best of you, Liyana.”

Inclining her head, Liyana ended the transmission.

Why didn’t anyone understand? She couldn’t just march up to Keith and reveal herself. It wouldn’t go well. If he was anything like her, he take it badly and regard her suspiciously, especially after the confrontation they’d had earlier regarding his mate, the Blue Paladin.

And the Blue Paladin. How could she face him either? She had told Lotor to kill him.

It wasn’t exactly an auspicious start to a relationship.

She let her head thunk against the darkened screen, growling low in her throat. If she did it quickly, she could be in an out without any kind of confrontation or extensive social interaction.

Liyana straightened her shoulders, adjusting her armor back to where it was before keying in the communication code of the castle into her personal screen, the link opening up almost immediately.

A mostly empty bridge greeted her, the weary form of the Altean Princess all that populated it. “Commander Liyana.” She said stiffly, the tone of her voice making Liyana’s hackles raise.

Kolivan was right. They couldn’t afford to be on the bad side of Voltron and its Paladins.

“Princess. I’m calling to request permission to enter the Castle ship. I wish to apologize for my earlier actions and discuss our plans from here.”

The princess looked at her suspiciously, her voluminous white hair bound up behind her head. “Forgive my hesitation, Commander, but you did try to get one of my Paladins killed.” She replied, her two tone eyes narrowed, “Why should I allow you on my ship?”

“I will come alone if that is what you desire.” Liyana huffed, “I simply wish to apologize. I wouldn’t intrude upon you if Kolivan hadn’t wished it.”

Clicking her tongue, the princess rested one hand upon her hip, the other rubbing at the end of her chin. “I do not wish to sour our relationship with the Blade. I will grant you permission to board. But be aware, Commander Liyana. I will not hesitate to throw you back out if you give me a reason. These paladins are my family and I will not let you hurt them.”

Nodding at the princess, Liyana felt a glimmer of respect grow in her chest. Her son had found a good group in which to immerse himself. Each of them cared and protected each other.

He had created a good family.

“I understand, princess. I will board shortly. I do not intend to stay for very long.”

The princess inclined her head regally, lifting an eyebrow when Liyana dawdled. Embarrassed, Liyana cut the transmission, turning away from the dark screen.

Everything about this situation was jarring her out of her familiar cool. She didn’t know how to deal with these humans anymore. It had been too long since she had lived among them.

Did they still wear those weird shiny shirts and bell like pants?

She really hoped not.

Shaking the thoughts from her head, Liyana stomped from her quarters, making her way down to the hangar and readying one of the pods for launch. Before she set off, she left a list of instructions for the captains beneath her.

Even if they were currently on standby, there were always things to do.

The controls of the pod felt like home in her hands and she felt the tension drain from her shoulders. Flying always had been her favorite thing to do. There was nothing quite like the freedom of flying through space, the void stretching out all around you, an endless scape for flying however you want.

It was days like these that she regretted ever giving it up to become a commander. Maybe now that she had blown her cover to smithereens, they’d let her fly again.

A smile curved Liyana’s lips at the thought. She could dream.

The flight was altogether too short and she flew into the open hangar easily, touching down in an open spot with an expert hand. The glass slid back and she leapt from the cockpit, her feet hitting the ground with a harsh thump, her armor clicking on the floor.

The Champion awaited her in the doorway, eyes narrowed and arms crossed tightly across his broad chest. She padded over to him, containing her instinctive reaction to his open hostility. “Commander.”

“Black Paladin.”

He seemed startled at her address, the title serving to break some of the tension between them. She lifted an eyebrow at his response and she watched him internally struggle to regain his composure. “Were you expecting me to call you something else?”

Paling a bit at her words, he cleared his throat. “Most Galra don’t see me as the Black Paladin. They tend to call me the…”

“Champion, yes.” Liyana sighed, “I didn’t imagine that you would want to be reminded of your captivity while interacting with a member of the Galra species. I may be a bit brusque but I’m not entirely insensitive.”

The paladin huffed out a chuckle, his shoulders relaxing as he glanced up at her. “I can see that.”

“I take it that the princess sent you to escort me?” Liyana huffed, brushing off the front of her armor.

“Not so much an escort as a guide. The Castle is a large place. Hunk volunteered but he’s also in the middle of baking.”

“Baking?” Liyana sputtered, looking at the paladin askance, “Surely you jest.”

“Nope.”

Liyana chuckled at his response, following the paladin into the Castle proper, the sheer size of the inside of the Castle making her resist the urge to whistle, a trait she had picked up during her years on Earth.

“Allura is having everyone meet in the kitchen right now.” The Black Paladin explained, a line of tension down his spine the only tell he had regarding her presence.

He was very good at hiding his emotions.

Liyana could respect that.

“That is a strange place for a meeting but I suppose it works for you.” Liyana mused, forcing away her memories of the small kitchen in the home she had shared with James and her own disastrous attempts at cooking.

The paladin laughed once more, leading her through the quiet hallways to where she could hear laughter and conversation, the dreariness of the castle lightening the closer they came to where everyone was gathered.

They entered the room silently, the laughter in the room dimming into nothing when she made her appearance. The Green Paladin looked at her distrustfully, their perch on the counter turning defensive as Liyana walked a few more steps into the room.

Oblivious to the change in mood in the room, Hunk continued to bustle around in front of the oven, an apron draped over his paladin armor and a small tune being hummed in his chest. He turned at last, hands clad in what Liyana vaguely remembered to be oven mitts.

“Liyana!” He crowed, his face lighting up, “I’m glad you made it!”

She blinked in surprise at his reaction, the rest of the room seeming to share in her response. “Hunk…this is the Galra commander that almost got Lance killed.” The Green Paladin hissed, their hands curled around the lip of the counter.

“She’s also the one who apologized and helped us distract the fleet long enough to get Lance out of there.” Hunk responded, his defense warming Liyana’s heart, “Sure, she said what she did to Lotor but Lance is back now. He’s gonna be okay. So if everyone could stop killing the vibe in my kitchen, I’d appreciate it.”

The other members of the room immediately looked chagrined and Liyana felt a rush of gratitude for the Yellow Paladin. Without his interference and defense, her visit would have been horribly hostile and awkward.

Striding up to the counter, she let a gentle smile unfold over her face, the expression returned with vigor by the Yellow Paladin. “Thank you.”

He gave her a half salute, a sweet smell coming to fill the kitchen. Liyana could feel her mouth water just from the smell and she took a step back, her eyes immediately coming to rest on the other Galra in the room, her small kit clutched on her lap.

“So you are the Galra commander.” She said icily, her kit clambering out of her lap to alight on the floor, hiding behind her mother.

“Former commander now. My cover has been quite blown.” Liyana replied, making it very clear that she was sizing up the other female, “I’m simply a spy now.”

The other Galra nodded, leaning back in her chair with the lazy grace of the assassins. Liyana held her ground, letting her chin lift just slightly.

She could try to intimidate her as much as she wanted. Liyana hadn’t risen as far as she had through sheer luck after all.

After a moment, the other Galra barked out a laugh, moving to her feet and stepping just slightly too close. “I can see where he gets it from.”

Liyana’s blood ran cold in her veins and she narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Miss…?”

“Maia.” She spat, voice beyond cold, “And I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. No, what I want to know is what could have been so important that you abandoned him?”

“I don’t owe you anything.” Liyana tutted, roping in her rising temper.

Kolivan had expressly warned her. She couldn’t let this Maia get under her skin.

“Maybe not. But you certainly owe him something.”

“Do you two know each other?” The Green Paladin interrupted, crafty eyes glancing between the two of them.

“I’ve never seen her before in my life.” Liyana said truthfully, refusing to take her eyes off the assassin in front of her.

This female knew of her bond with Keith and that fact made Liyana nervous.

She didn’t want this to get out. She didn’t want to confront Keith yet.

She wasn’t ready to face her son.

The years hadn’t been kind in that respect. She was tired and while it would soothe every horrible mangled void in her soul, she couldn’t bring herself to reveal herself to her son.

What if he hated her?

Liyana wasn’t sure if she could take it.

Maia’s eyes searched her face before turning up her nose. “I wouldn’t affiliate myself with someone who willingly abandoned their kit.”

In that instant, Liyana saw red and her claws grasped the front of Maia’s bloodstained dress, pulling the shorter woman into her space, fangs bared.

“Do not presume to know anything about me, assassin.” She roared, her fur standing on end.

A swift hand connected with her arm and Liyana found herself pushed back, anger dulling her typically sharp wits and reflexes. This Maia had no right to lecture her, no right to get in her face about what she had done regarding her kit!

They dove back at each other, claws extended and Liyana hissed as Maia’s claws dug under her armor, severing straps with impunity and slicing into her skin. Her neck piece fell to floor just as the Yellow Paladin stepped between them, a look of anger foreign on his gentle face.

“What did I just say about killing the vibe in my kitchen?”

Both women stopped at his words, the threat in his voice redirecting Liyana’s instincts. Her claws twitched and she took a deep breath, stepping away from the Yellow Paladin and the other Galra female.

The aggression in Maia’s face faded and she looked imploringly over to Liyana. “Don’t keep doing this to yourself. Both of you will suffer if this drags on.”

“What are you two even talking about?” The Green Paladin demanded, coming to stand beside Hunk.

“I think it has something to do with this, doesn’t it?” Hunk responded, crouching to retrieve Liyana’s locket from where Maia’s attack had severed the chain.

The click of the mechanism made Liyana’s heart stop and she reached out to stop him but her claws fell short, her arms retreating to her chest as the Green and Black Paladins gathered around Hunk to look at the pictures in her locket.

“Why do you have a picture of Keith in here?” The Black Paladin asked, hostility returning to his voice.

“Because she’s his mother.” Hunk revealed, making steady eye contact with Liyana.

Liyana looked away, squeezing her eyes shut as she awaited their judgement.

Silence fell after Hunk’s announcement and Liyana bowed her head, the scratches around her neck stinging where Maia’s claws had torn at her. This wasn’t what she wanted to happen at all.

She just wanted to apologize and return to her ship.

She didn’t want to push herself into Keith’s life.

She didn’t deserve it.

A rush of air left the Black Paladin and the Green Paladin’s jaw clicked closed audibly. “Holy shit, Hunk.”

Liyana’s eyes blinked open at that and she looked at the Green Paladin with a displeased expression. “What kind of profanity are you spouting?”

A badly stifled laugh left the Black Paladin and even Hunk’s face creased unpleasantly as he tried to hold back his humor. The Green Paladin looked dumbstruck and the little kit in the corner giggled at the scene, her innocent amusement pulling at Liyana’s heartstrings.

The kit stumbled forward, all graceless limbs and curious eyes. She danced around Hunk, easily avoiding her mother’s grasping arms. “Are you really?” She asked, her question making Liyana breathe out harshly.

She crouched down to the kit’s level, regarding her seriously. “Keith is my kit. But I don’t know if I can claim the title of his mother. I had to leave him behind.”

“Of course you’re his Mama.” The kit protested, “If you _had_ to leave him behind that meant you were trying to keep him safe, right? Mamas do that.”

Liyana chuckled at the kit’s logic, moving back to her feet. “Even so, little one. I haven’t been the best.”

The Green and Black Paladins continued to look at her incredulously even as Hunk gave her an insistent expression, the chiding in his face almost audible. “Telling Keith had not been part of my plan, Hunk.” She said petulantly, frowning at the Yellow Paladin, “Now would not be the greatest time. Especially after what occurred the last time we spoke.”

“Keith was a little torn up over what was happening with Lance.” Hunk said simply, “Lance is back now. Now would be the perfect time. If you keep putting it off, something will happen and you may never get the chance to tell him.”

A sigh of defeat left her just as the princess entered the room, her advisor close behind her. She looked between all of them, a resigned expression coming to her face. “What happened?”

“Galra catfight.” The Green Paladin said simply, shrugging when Hunk and the Black Paladin looked at her in shock.

“Pidge!”

“Shiro, can you really think of another way to put that?” Pidge smirked, flicking her gaze to the Black Paladin.

Hunk laughed at Shiro’s frown, elbowing the older man. “Careful Shiro. Your face might get stuck that way.”

“With as much as you guys get into, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Shiro replied, his exasperation mirroring Liyana’s own, “As for your question princess, there was a bit of conflict between Maia and Liyana.”

“By the way, Liyana is Keith’s mom.” Hunk interjected, making Liyana cover her face with her hands.

“Why do you keep announcing that?!” She shrieked, looking to the Yellow Paladin in agitation.

“Huh. Now that you point it out, I can see it.” Pidge hummed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“If everyone knows, that means we can’t leave Keith out, right?” Hunk smiled, “Go on! Keep him in the loop!”

The advisor shared a look with Maia, his face gentling as he looked to Liyana. “He’s due out of the pod soon. You’re welcome to accompany me to the med bay. I can get those scratches taken care of while you wait for him.”

Liyana looked at the hopeful faces around the room and breathed deeply. “Is it really for the best?”

The others sobered at her question and Shiro gave her a soft smile. “He needs to know.”

Steeling herself, Liyana nodded at the advisor and retrieved her locket from Hunk, gripping the metal tightly in her hand. She followed the orange haired man through the silent halls of the castle, the laughter and conversation growing quieter behind him.

He led her into a fully stocked medical room, gently settling her on one of the beds while retrieving the items he needed from a nearby closet. He was brisk and methodical in patching up her scratches, his voice fading into the background as she sat.

Keith was in the other room.

She was so close to her son.

When at last he declared her to be okay, the advisor led her into the pod room, staying at the entrance as she took hesitant steps forward, the still form of her kit drawing her like gravity.

Liyana met the glass of the tube far quicker than she had expected, Keith’s peaceful features bringing solace to a grief she hadn’t been consciously aware of. Tears welled in her eyes and overflowed, soaking her fur.

He was so beautiful.

After so long, he had finally inherited her fangs and claws. The shape of his face was similar to James but his eyes and hair were so like hers that it hurt.

She had missed so much. He had gotten so big, even if he was just as tiny as his father.

Her knees gave out and she rested her head against his pod, shoulders shaking. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

~~~~

The oven dinged loudly, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen after Liyana’s departure. Hunk scrambled over to the oven, pulling on his discarded mitts and throwing open the door.

He pulled the pan-like contraption from the oven, the sweet aroma drifting to his nose. He inhaled deeply and looked up to see every member of the room staring at him intently.

Kore skittered over to the counter, pulling herself up with a strength disproportionate to her size. “Are those cookies? I’ve never smelled something so tasty in my life!”

Hunk batted one of her hands away gently, clicking his tongue. “Easy. They’re still hot. If you try to eat them now, they’ll just burn your tongue.”

The tiny kit gasped and put her hands over her mouth, looking at the cookies suspiciously. Her mother chuckled in the corner, climbing to her feet with a wince.

“Are you okay?” Shiro asked, hands extended as if to help her.

“Nothing a little rest can’t help.” Maia chuckled, “I’m lucky she doesn’t fight like a regular Galra. Most Galra attack with their claws if they can. Liyana wasn’t looking to hurt me.”

“What possessed you to start a fight with her?” Allura said sternly, crossing her arms over her chest, “Currently she is on an errand from Kolivan to make nice with us. Your fight did not help with that mission.”

Maia flushed, her head ducking at Allura’s reprimand before Pidge patted her on the shoulder. “You knew about her and Keith, didn’t you? What about that made you so mad?”

“Galra society is built upon bonds, primarily the bonds between mates and the bond between kit and bearer.” Maia sighed, looking down at her hands, “By abandoning Keith, Liyana deprived him of much. The presence of a kit’s bearer helps to regulate their systems and the chemical bond between the two of them promotes growth and stability. Kits often die if their bearer disappears or is killed. That is why the strongest of a pair typically bears kits.”

“But Keith survived.” Shiro protested, looking unsettled by Maia’s explanation.

“I can only imagine that the adaptability of his human half made all the difference. You humans are beyond resilient and sturdy. It took three days before Lotor even made a true chink in Lance’s psychological armor and even then he held out hope.”

Ice settled in Hunk’s stomach and he pulled his mitts off, letting his sweaty hands rest on the counter. “What did he do?”

Maia looked up at him sharply, her eyes seeming to search his face. “Do you truly want to know? It wasn’t good.”

“We need to be ready to help Lance when he gets out of the pod.” Hunk answered, his voice tremulous, “That means knowing what we’re contending with.”

Maia’s expression turned to one of pity and Hunk’s heart squeezed.

What had been so bad that Lotor had nearly broken Lance? They knew it had something to do with his shapeshifting abilities but Hunk shuddered to think of the possibilities.

“Lotor had all of us brought to the bridge where we thought we saw an injured Keith.” Maia began, a bad feeling already brewing in Hunk’s gut, “That Keith proceeded to speak with Lance and try to convince him that he wasn’t wanted anymore and that the changes that Lotor had wrought destroyed any affection he’d had for Lance. After Lance realized that the Keith on the bridge was an imposter, he shifted shapes.”

Hunk stared at Maia in horror as the Galra woman came to look at each of them in turn. “He came to look like each of you. Each change was accompanied by words designed to drag Lance down, cloaked in the voices of his friends. It…It was hard to watch.”

A loud sniffle left Hunk and he covered his eyes with one hand. “What did he say in my voice?”

“Hunk…” Pidge said softly, “Don’t do this to yourself.”

“I need to know.” Hunk huffed, looking at Maia intently, “What were the words that my best friend is gonna have to deal with?”

A harsh exhalation left Maia, Kore turning on the countertop to look at her mother sadly. “Who could ever be friends with such a monster? Go away. Don’t come back. We don’t want to see you again.”

The words hit Hunk like bullets and his eyes overflowed.

Lance heard a version of him say that? And mean it?

There was no universe out there where something like that would ever be okay and Hunk felt rage mix with the sadness he felt.

He’d never wished ill upon anyone but Hunk wanted nothing but the worst for Lotor. He deserved to suffer for what he did to Lance.

Looking up, Hunk was sure that his expression reflected his inner turmoil as the Galra kit appeared unsettled by his expression. “If it alleviates any pain, Lance did get to participate in whatever they did to Lotor. When he returned to the trophy room to rescue myself and Kore, he was covered in Galra blood.” Maia added, the look of pity on her face unabating, “If his revenge was anything like what he did to the druid that changed him, Lotor won’t be recovering.”

“Druid?” Allura queried, “The changes were druid based?”

“Lotor employed a personal druid upon the ship, one trained by Haggar herself.” Maia shuddered, “They were in charge of the changes to Lance and they were exceptionally methodical. Many prizes before Lance had been driven mad long before the changes were completed. Thordis spaced out what they could in order to maintain Lance’s sanity, or at least a semblance of it. Surely you saw his tattoos? Those couldn’t be created by mundane means.”

Allura’s shoulders drooped wearily and Hunk looked to her in question. “What does the druid have to do with it?”

“If it were simply damage from mundane means, the pod may be able to reverse it.” Allura murmured, her eyes glassy, “But druids change things down to a cellular level. What was done to Lance….its permanent.”

“So Lance is pointy and glows in the dark.” Pidge interjected, her voice rough, “Are we going to treat him any differently because of it? He’s still our Lance. We still formed Voltron. Lance wasn’t broken and he came back to us and helped us kick the absolute shit out of Lotor’s fleet. What happened to him is beyond fucked up but I know he wouldn’t want us hanging out in here, pitying him and feeling sorry for what’s going on. We need to figure out how we’re going to be there for him.”

Emboldened by her words, Hunk clenched his fists tightly. “I still owe him the best hug in the universe.” He smiled, looking to Pidge, determination firm in his gaze.

It wouldn’t be easy, especially with how Lance tended to misdirect and joke about his own feelings. They all had their work cut out for them in trying to help him through this.

“While I love Lance friend a lot, are the cookies cool now?” Kore asked quietly, her voice breaking the tension.

Hunk chuckled at her question, picking up one of the cooled cookies and handing it to her. She looked at it for only a moment before taking a small bite, her entire frame lighting up as she chewed. After the first bite was chewed, she immediately shoved the rest of the cookie in her mouth, both Hunk and Maia moving to stop her as she tried to shove another one in on top of it.

Kore chewed quickly, her face filled with so much excitement that Hunk was worried that she might explode. He could see what endeared her to Lance, the aspects of Stella that seemed to be almost copied into this small child.

There was no way Lance would have left her behind.

Several cookies disappeared into Kore’s tiny hands before the others scrambled up, desperate to get at least one before the kit ate all of them.

Hunk looked out over the atmosphere of his kitchen, the happiness of the room filling him. It wasn’t perfect and it wouldn’t be until his best friend was back at his side, battling Keith for the last cookie.

But they were safe and he could accept that for now.

~~~~

Pidge nibbled on her own cookie, looking out over the happy kitchen. She had been right, in a way.

An intervention would definitely be needed.

Every new detail about Lance’s situation made her feel sick to her stomach and she could barely contain herself from stealing Coran’s tablet and getting the whole rundown all at once. What else was there that she couldn’t see?

She knew that Lance was now technically a hybrid, but of what? What effect would that have on Lance? What effect would it have on the Blue Lion?

Obviously, she didn’t care about Lance’s changes or she would never have let him pilot her, let alone form Voltron again.

What about Voltron?

They could all feel how fragile Lance had been in their bond, how deep the connection between Lance and Keith really ran. It had been a little terrifying to be honest.

Lance had always been so steady, so integral to the formation of Voltron. You could always tell when he and Keith would be fighting because it would be like trying to balance a boat on an ocean in the midst of a typhoon. Most of the time though, Lance provided a steady pulse to Voltron, almost like a heartbeat. He drew them together, both in and out of their Lions and Pidge didn’t know how to help him recover from what had been done to him.

Hence the idea for the intervention.

Maybe if they could all come together and show Lance how much they loved, appreciated, and supported him, it would help. She didn’t believe that it would automatically fix it. Nothing could do that. But it would be a start, a firm foundation for Lance to balance on while he tried to get back on his feet.

Pidge mused over the idea, savoring the sugary goodness of the treat in her hand. Maybe she should go see Coran. Maybe there was something she could work on to help Lance out.

Camouflage for his tattoos maybe?

Her mind raced in all directions as she munched, the wild train becoming derailed as she suddenly found herself with a lapful of sleepy Galra kit. In her shock, she almost toppled off the counter, only the quick reflexes of Shiro keeping her from hitting the ground.

The little girl purred at her, tail coming up to wrap around one arm. Pidge looked to Shiro in alarm, silently asking for the older man to help her. A chuckle left him and he stepped back to Allura’s side, the princess’s gaze warm as she looked at the Black Paladin.

Pidge narrowed her eyes at the pair, lifting an eyebrow mischievously. Allura’s eyes widened and she mouthed something at her, a laugh pulling itself from Pidge’s chest at the gesture.

“Sorry, what was that princess? I can’t lip read Altean.” Pidge said cheekily, Shiro looking between the two of them in confusion.

“I said, don’t you dare.” Allura hissed before returning her gaze to Shiro, “Actually, Pidge, since Kore has designated you her current bed, you can show Maia and Kore to their room. I’m sure they’re quite tired and in need of rest and refreshment.”

Maia looked surprised at the offer but Pidge narrowed her eyes at the princess. “Sending me away will not stop me from plotting, princess.”

Allura groaned but pointed at the door, Shiro chuckling at her. Pidge gathered up the kit in her lap, nodding to Maia carefully. “Come on. She’s right. I’m sure you guys are exhausted and it’s on my way.”

The much taller woman followed after her and Pidge hummed to herself. Maybe she could convince Maia to give her a few pointers on being sneakier.

Pidge was more stealth oriented after all.

They made their way to the halls quietly, Kore cooing in her sleep even as her tail flicked back and forth wildly, the scene so cute that Pidge almost felt nauseous.

It was almost as bad as when Keith and Lance were being all lovey-dovey through the mind meld or when Shiro and Allura thought they were being subtle in a public area.

Alighting in front of a nondescript door, Pidge pressed an elbow to the pad, a whooshing greeting her. The lights clicked on and Maia walked in gingerly, looking at the room in surprise. “This is for us?”

“Yeah. There’s a bathroom attached if you guys want to clean up. The rest of us are down the hall if you need us and there’s a connection to the intercom in each room if you have an emergency.” Pidge explained, walking in with her armful of Galra child.

“This is far kinder than I had expected.” Maia sighed, taking Kore from Pidge carefully.

“We weren’t gonna just toss you out.” Pidge smiled, “You’re free to stay with us until you’re ready to leave.”

“And if we don’t wish to leave?”

“Then I guess we get another Space Mom.” Pidge laughed, the glint of metal in Maia’s fur making her pause, “What is that?”

The older woman paused, lifting her chin so that Pidge could clearly see the thin band on metal encircling her throat.

“Lotor collars all his prizes. Kore has one as well.” Maia hummed, her claws clicking against the metal, “Our collars are connected directly to Lotor’s control panel. Lance’s was touch based. Mostly because Lotor enjoyed keeping him at his feet.”

Pidge ground her teeth at the mention of Lotor before pursing her lips. “May I see?”

Maia made a noise of assent and Pidge crept forward, standing on her tip toes so that she could see the intricate metal band. “If you give me a bit of time, I should be able to find a way to get those off. Once you’re rested, you and Kore can swing by my workshop and I’ll see what I can do.”

“You are versed in these matters?”

“I’m one of the tech people around here.” Pidge said proudly, “Computers are more my thing but I can do enough to figure it out. And if I can’t get it, I’ll rope Hunk into it. He was the one studying to be an engineer.”

“You were the one who tracked Lotor’s ship.” Maia breathed, looking down at Pidge with a strange kind of awe.

Fidgeting under the attention, Pidge rubbed the back of her head. “That was me. Me and Green, anyway. We fell into Lotor’s trap the first time so there was no way I was going to let him get away with that.”

“All of you are so determined.” Maia chuckled, “I can’t help but feel inspired. Do not fret, Pidge. Kore and I will stop by this workshop of yours. We’ll probably stay with you until we find a place where we might be of aid. Preferably somewhere subterranean. Kore does not do well in bright lights.”

Pidge immediately turned her head to the sleeping child, consternation creasing her features. “Why didn’t you say something? We could have gotten the lights dimmer or given her a pair of sunglasses.”

“Sunglasses?”

“They’re like my glasses only the lenses are tinted. It’s good for shielding one’s eyes from the light.” Pidge chattered, “They’re very easy to make. I could whip her up a pair when I finish getting rid of those collars.”

“Thank you.”

Flushing at the earnest feelings in Maia’s voice, Pidge ducked her head, making her way to the door and giving her a lazy salute. “Take as much time as you need. I’m going to stop by the med bay and check on Lance.”

Maia nodded at her, an amused grin on her face. The door closed between them and Pidge exhaled noisily. Now to see if she could get ahold of Coran’s tablet.

With everything that had happened, she wasn’t sure if Coran would simply hand it over. Maybe it was some kind of misguided attempt at protecting the rest of them from what the pod saw but Pidge was determined.

She would find out what Lotor did to Lance. She knew about the teeth and claws. She had even been able to see the way his eyes had been changed. The Altean features were clearly a jab at Allura, a jab that everyone could see was successful.

Lance and Allura would definitely need to talk about that.

Her feet carried her down the hallway quietly, arms crossed over her chest as she thought and walked. There were also Lance’s tattoos, tattoos that she now knew to be druid created. What made them different? Would they have some kind of effect on Lance? What made them change colors?

Pidge had a hunch that it was based on emotion, given the general color schemes but how had the druid connected the tattoos to Lance’s emotions? Was there a way to disguise it? Lance was a deeply emotional person and she was sure that he didn’t appreciate literally wearing his emotions.

Then there was the case of his genetics.

There was no way around it, she needed to get her hands on that tablet.

Quietly, she crept to the door of the med bay, eyeing the figure of Coran in the pod room. Walking as silently as possible, Pidge dove behind one of the beds when Coran looked behind him. She pressed her back to the frame, barely daring to breathe.

Finally she peeked her head out from behind the bed frame, only to shriek when Coran was inches away from her. “And what are you getting up to, Number Five?”

Accepting that she was caught, Pidge looked at Coran intently. “I want to see Lance’s pod results. If I know what happened, I can start thinking of ways that we can change things to help Lance.”

Coran heaved a sigh, looking at her with a resigned expression. “I suppose there’s no way to talk you out of it, is there?”

“Nope.” Pidge said resolutely, looking up at Coran with every bit of determination she could muster, “I won’t go spreading it to the rest of the team but I want to help where I can, Coran. And I know that having an idea of what changed will help me help him.”

Moving to his feet, Coran extended her a hand, pulling her up and leading her over to where his tablet had lain unguarded. “It may be best if we do this elsewhere.” Coran hummed, “Keith is about to wake up and those two deserve privacy for their reunion.”

Pidge nodded, following the Altean man from the room and down the hall to one of the unused common rooms. He gestured for her to take a seat before settling into the cushions himself. “First of all, there was significant internal trauma to both Lance’s lungs and his intestines. It’s likely that they came from some kind of blunt force to both areas. Lance’s rib was originally broken from the back as well. His teeth and claws are changed down to the cellular level. Neither of those have a very good chance of being reversed. His eyes are also changed at the cellular level and it’s likely that Lance will be able to see in the dark now.”

Listening intently, Pidge held her chin in her hand, pursing her lips. “I could see if I could engineer a file for the claws, if he wanted me to. I have some spare tools hanging around.”

A glimmer of pride came from Coran and Pidge gestured for him to continue. “The apparent Altean features are functional so Lance will experience greater hearing. The eye scales are more luminescent than Altean eye scales but otherwise they don’t have too much bearing on his everyday life, other than appearance.”

“He’s going to feel guilty about that, Coran.” Pidge said softly, “You and Allura need to talk to him about it and air everything out.”

“I am aware.” Coran replied, “I have a few ideas in place to help him feel more included. If he shares so much with us, it would only make sense that we give him a culture to go with it, yes?”

Pidge chuckled at him, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her head upon them. “That’s not all of it, is it?”

“Sadly, no. The tattoos that Lance is sporting were branded in his skin down to his bones via druidic quintessence. From what the pod can tell, his own quintessence is filling them now. That’s what give it the typically blue color and makes it ebb and flow.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Pidge queried, “If his quintessence is so close to the surface, isn’t he more vulnerable to druids now?”

Coran nodded sagely and Pidge let her forehead clunk against her knees. “Is there anything we could do to his armor to help protect him?”

A noise of consideration came from Coran and Pidge peeked up at him, the contemplative look on his face making her mind start to race. “There is something, isn’t there? Could we do it now? It would really make him feel better if he had his armor.”

“I believe that we could, Number Five.”

Grin stretching over her face, Pidge leapt to her feet. “What are we waiting for? There’s so many projects I could get started on to help him!”

“There is one more thing on the log, Pidge.”

Abruptly deflating, Pidge turned back to Coran, her hands wringing together. “It’s the changes to his genetics, isn’t it?”

Coran’s silence told her all she needed to know and she sat back down, watching the mechanic scroll down his tablet. “As I told you before, there were four different species spliced into Lance’s DNA. The vast majority is Galra. The remaining percentages are shared equally between a dead species knowns as the Vraskyl, the Merpeople that Lance had interacted with and…Alteans.”

“Is that why Lance’s ears work like yours now?”

Coran shrugged. “The percentage of Altean DNA is quite low but it was replication and repair that were damaged and subsequently replaced. Lance won’t see any side effects for a while but as he ages, they will become more apparent.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

“Warn him.” Coran huffed, clearing his tablet and set it to the side, “The changes to his DNA saved his life and it’s something he’ll have to live with. For a very long time.”

“All of those races are much longer lived than humans, huh?” Pidge blinked, leaning her head back against the cushions, “It could be worse. Lotor could have literally transplanted his organs. That would have been a shitshow.”

“Why is that where you mind went?” Coran sputtered, “No one is quite so barbaric as to transplant organs!”

“Humans do it all the time.”

Coran made a face at her and Pidge laughed, pulling herself to her feet once more. “Thank you for filling me in, Coran.” She said earnestly, “I have a good idea of everything now and I promised Maia that I’d work on finding a way to take their collars off.”

A grin was flashed in her direction and Pidge returned it, turning to leave the room.

She had a place to start.

~~~~

Keith drifted in the in between, the state halfway from sleeping and waking. The gentle hum of the pod surrounded him and he let it settle his soul, the strengthening purr of Red washing over his mind, a coolness that made him think of Lance joining Red’s consciousness.

He was content, happy almost. He could feel his Lion again and his Lance was back with them, healing quickly in his own pod. Keith could almost feel Lance’s dreams while in the pod, happiness and familiarity bouncing between their bond.

Slowly, Keith drew closer to wakefulness, a scent outside his pod making him confused.

It was familiar but he couldn’t put a finger on why he would know it. The Galra part of him instantly calmed at the scent and he inhaled deeply. The scent was nostalgic and it made him think of a small house and the warmth of Texan summers.

It smelled like childhood.

His eyes fluttered open, the glass of his pod retreating as it registered that he’d regained consciousness. Staggering forward, he collapsed into someone, the scent seeming to emanate from them. Almost without his permission, his body curled forward into the unknown person, a purr rumbling from his chest.

A higher purr answered his own, the sound just as familiar as the scent. He’d been held in these arms before, a long, long time ago.

Blearily he looked up, the lights masking the features of the Galra woman who held him. He couldn’t see the expression on her face but something told him that she was just as dumbfounded as he was beginning to be.

Abruptly, his faculties returned and he scrambled back, blinking quickly to regain his previous eyesight. The woman stayed frozen, her arms held out from where she had caught him.

He looked at her critically, recognizing her as the Galra commander who had warned them.

The one who had almost gotten Lance killed.

“You.” He said coldly, his words making her flinch back, arms coming back to cross in front of her, “What are you doing here?”

An inscrutable expression crossed her face and she shifted awkwardly, the shimmer of a chain clutched in one hand. “I came to apologize.” She blurted, “I should never have told Lotor to kill your Blue Paladin. I have no excuse for my actions and I realize that my words brought you a lot of pain.”

Keith blinked in surprise at the sudden torrent of words, his emotions feeling a lot more stable than the first time they’d interacted. “I accept…your apology?” He said hesitantly, resisting the urge to cross his arms.

“Oh! Good.” She replied, almost surprised at his response, “Well, that’s all I came for and I’ll just be going now.”

“Wait!” Keith called, surprising even himself with how quickly he responded, “Something tells me you came in here for something else.”

She huffed deeply, turning back to face him, an insecure expression gracing her face. “I don’t even know how to start this.”

“You could start at the beginning.” Keith snarked, growing a little impatient with her dawdling, “You came here intending to say something that wasn’t your apology. Just spit it out already.”

“I’m your mother.”

Anger and suspicion filled Keith as soon as the words left her mouth and he bared his teeth in an unconscious snarl. “What kind of joke are you trying to pull?”

“I’m not joking, Keith.” She said seriously, an angry light coming to her eyes as well, “I didn’t want to just blurt it out. I knew you’d react like this.”

“And what made you think that?” Keith growled, his shoulders drawn up defensively.

“Because that’s what I would have done!” She spat, her arms crossed over her chest.

“If you really are my mother…” Keith started, hesitating for a moment, “If you are my mother, then prove it!”

“You are literally surrounded by machines capable of doing DNA testing.” She said dryly, looking at him askance.

“Is that the only thing you’ve got?”

She sighed heavily, opening her fist to reveal a golden locket. With careful fingers, she clicked it open and tossed it to Keith. He scrambled to catch it, opening his hands to see two pictures lovingly encased inside.

On one side sat a portrait of his father, a wide grin splitting his face even as he reached out to the person on the other side of the camera. Keith swallowed harshly at the portrait, his heart squeezing painfully.

It had been so many years since he’d even seen a picture of his father. After his death, they hadn’t let Keith keep any of the photos or trinkets from around the house. They’d barely let him keep his knife.

Hesitantly, he looked to the other picture, recognizing the picture of himself immediately. He was young, no more than maybe two and held carefully in large purple hands, eyes locked on the camera and a joyful smile lighting up his face.

“You could have stolen this from someone else.” He tried, his own words sounding weak to his ears.

“If I was trying to fool you, I could have.” She nodded, almost seeming proud of his deduction, “I could bring up the fact that you have my Blade. I’d left it with you before I had to leave.”

“And how would you know that it was yours?” He argued, pulling it from its sheath to hold it between them.

“The luxite will still respond to me. Not everyone can activate a Blade, Keith.” She said patiently, reaching out slowly, telegraphing her actions.

Keith almost recoiled from her when her large hand wrapped around the hilt, the blade immediately leaping to life at her touch. “Kolivan could have sent you to test me again.” He breathed, blinking his eyes rapidly.

She sighed one more, taking another hesitant step forward, a finger poking him in the top of his left arm. “You have a scar here. Almost wraps around the top of your arm. You got it when you weren’t listening and stumbled into my old things. You somehow managed to cut yourself on my Blade.” She reminisced, her hand tracing the exact curve of the scar.

He could only stare up at her in shock, mind unwilling to believe the truth in front of him. “You…you are my mother, aren’t you?”

She nodded at him and a sob trapped itself in his throat. “Why? Why did you leave us? Why did you abandon us?”

Her own eyes glistened at his words, an aborted hiccup leaving her. “Were we not good enough for you? Didn’t you want us?” Keith demanded, “Didn’t you want me?”

“I wanted you more than anything in this universe, Keith. Do not ever doubt that.” She sniffed, one of her hands coming up to frame his face, “I left you and your father behind because I messed up. I’d been searching for my Blade and I accidentally set off an emergency beacon. The commander on the other end demanded my immediate return or they would come to my location. I couldn’t lead the Galra to Earth. I couldn’t lead them to you.”

Regarding her cautiously, Keith cocked his head to the side, trying to push back the tears that threatened. “Why didn’t you take us with you? Why didn’t you come back when it was safe? I thought you were dead. I thought I was alone after Dad died.” He said harshly, a lifetime of doubt and anger spilling out, “Do you have any idea how awful the orphanages are on Earth? The foster homes? I didn’t have anyone! I was all by myself until I met Shiro. I went to the Garrison, I learned how to fly. I was the best and then the only person I had disappeared!”

“Keith, there is no way for me to apologize for leaving you behind like that. No way to make up for the childhood you lost. I am so proud of how well you grew up and the skills you developed. But you have to know, I couldn’t have taken you with me. The Galra would have killed you and your father as soon as we came into contact with a fleet. I would have likely been put to death as well for ‘disrupting racial purity’. I never wanted to leave either of you. The years I spent on Earth were the happiest times of my life. I nearly went mad after your father died.” She said earnestly, one of her thumbs stroking along his hairline, the action nearly drawing a purr from him despite himself, “The death of one’s mate is beyond all imagination. I should have come for you then but I was so worried that you would get embroiled in this war. I thought I was protecting you.”

“Too many people make dumb decisions while thinking they’re protecting me.” Keith said bitterly, almost shrugging her hands off, “Why now? Why reveal yourself now?”

“I didn’t realize you were here until my warning to the other members of Voltron. Your friend Hunk figured me out rather quickly. He and the others insisted that you know.”

“Were you planning on telling me?” Keith demanded, pulling her hands away and growling, a little miffed at how much taller his mother stood.

“I wasn’t sure if we were ready.” She replied, pulling her arms to cross over her chest, “I didn’t want it to turn into a fight and after everything I said regarding your mate, I wasn’t sure if I would be welcomed even without that revelation.”

“Everyone keeps calling him that but I don’t even know what that means!” Keith roared, plowing his hands through his hair, “This is why I needed you! I don’t know anything about half of myself! Everything is an exercise in self-hatred. Every new trait comes out of nowhere and I don’t know what to expect, let alone the fact that I share DNA with the most hated species in the universe! I just…”

His anger faltered and he let his gaze fall on Lance’s still pod for a moment before turning his face back to his mother, eyes watering. “I needed you. And you weren’t there.”

A true sob left his mother and he found himself drawn up in her embrace, her familiar smell loosing the floodgates on his own tears. His claws scraped at the back of her armor as he pulled himself closer, burying his face in the front of her uniform.

Her purr rumbled through her chest, the sound soothing the tangled web of his emotions like nothing else.

This.

This was why the others spoke so highly of their mothers. Why Lance had cried in the observation deck before, why Hunk tried to bake so much, why Pidge would curl into herself sometimes.

This is what it felt like to have a mom who _loved_ you.

“We have much to catch up on, kit.” She crooned, her hands smoothing over the back of Keith’s head, “I’ll do my best to answer your questions but I cannot promise a miracle. I can’t bring back the years we lost but I do promise to be here for you now. I’ll never leave you behind again.”

Keith pressed his face deeper into her shoulder, her words striking a chord deep within him. “Tell me what mates are. Why was I so out of my mind when Lance was gone?”

She looked down upon him calmly, her arms gathering him even closer to her. “Galra mate for life, kit. It is exactly what it sounds like. There is one and only one mate for a Galra. The bond only forms when there are strong feelings of attachment between a Galra and their subject of affection. Galra mates are joined in body, mind, and soul. To be parted from one another after the bond is created is painful and makes the mates frantic to return to one another.” Liyana explained, fingers combing through Keith’s hair.

He pulled back, looking at Lance’s pod cautiously. “He would need to feel just as strongly as I do?”

“The bond doesn’t form between those with one sided affections. The chemical process is intense and it requires a level of requited affection before it even starts. You were not fortunate, Keith. The distance between the two of you only made the reaction more intense.”

“It was like a red alert in my head all the time.” Keith admitted roughly, his mind unconsciously reaching for Lance, “I couldn’t think without him. What will I do if we have to be separated again?”

“The bond will settle.” She counseled, stepping back so that she could rest her hands on Keith’s shoulders, “It will always be more intense than not, given your temperament, but you will both be able to function independent of one another.”

“I love him so much.” Keith whispered, looking back to his mother’s face, still slightly disbelieving that the person he had been searching for was finally in front of him after so long, “The few times the bond went silent, I had thought he died. I was so scared.”

He’d almost given up hope of ever finding her. There’d been so little evidence, so few clues as to her existence that he wasn’t sure what to think.

“What do I do?”

“You don’t need to do anything, Keith.” She said sternly, “Live and love each other. It will be hard. Your Blue will be suffering for a while.”

“Lance.”

“What?”

“His name is Lance.”

“Your mate is named after a weapon.” She observed dryly, the words making Keith chuckle.

“I hadn’t realized that until Kore brought it up. It is a little strange.” He said fondly, looking over to Lance’s pod.

He could feel his mother’s gaze turn to follow his, Lance’s pod turning a different color as they watched. Unease filled Keith and he crossed the room to stand in front of the pod, looking over Lance’s dusky skin.

Eyes searching, Keith could find no evidence of his previous injuries, the speed of his healing beyond anything he’d seen before Lance’s capture. His cerulean eyes flashed open and the glass disappeared, the only barrier between Keith and Lance gone.

Neither of them moved for a moment, Lance’s eyes not really registering what was in front of him. Keith could feel his confusion and steadily mounting alarm. He could hear a faint sound of warning come from his mother but he pushed forward, moving slowly so as not to scare Lance any more.

“Lance? Does everything feel okay? Coran thought you’d be in the pod longer than that.”

Lance only looked at him blankly, lifting his own hands and glancing down at them, expression creasing. “It didn’t reverse anything, did it?” He said hoarsely, lucidity returning to his face at a snail’s pace.

Keith’s heart broke at the expression on Lance’s face, an undercurrent of disbelief coming from their bond. “Druid changes cannot be reversed.” Liyana added, carefully keeping her distance from Lance’s pod.

Lance’s head shot up at the sound of her voice, anger making his altered features something frightening. Keith wasn’t sure how to react when Lance surged forward, arms barely shooting out fast enough to catch his glowing lover.

The tattoos in his skin blazed a fiery crimson and Keith looked to his mother, having to actually exert himself to keep a hold on Lance.

“Let me go, Keith.” Lance snarled, “She told Lotor to kill me. Twice.”

“Yeah, and she came to apologize!” Keith hissed, “She’s a member of the Blade and she helped us distract Lotor’s fleet long enough to get you out!”

Lance stilled at his words, looking between the two of them with wide eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, really, dork.” Keith huffed, “Do you really think we’d let her in here if she was a threat?”

A sheepish grin crossed Lance’s face before a deathly serious expression replaced it. “Well. I’m waiting.”

“For what?”

“For that apology.”

Keith could see the moment that his mother registered Lance’s words as she rushed forward, her hands clenched behind her back. “I apologize for my conduct, Blue Paladin. Everything I had said was in an effort to protect Voltron from Lotor and hopefully put you out of the suffering Lotor had inflicted upon you. I did not mean to bring any more pain to you or your friends.”

Clicking his tongue for a moment, Lance relaxed into Keith’s hold, giving Liyana a dry look. “Eh. It was decent apology. I’d give it an 8 out 10. Gotta take points off for delivery.”

Liyana barked out a surprised laugh, one hand coming to cover her mouth as she realized what she’d done but it was too late. Lance’s face lit up, a mischievous grin coming to his face. “Someone likes my jokes, Keith.”

“I think she was shocked into laughing. She probably couldn’t believe that you were judging her apology.” Keith sighed, taking solace in the feel of his _mate_ in his arms.

Now that he thought about it, it was a nice word. It had a permanence to it that made Keith content, a purr starting up in his chest.

The jewelry still draping Lance’s form slid over his arm and he looked at it with distaste, narrowing his eyes at the slender silver links. Lance followed his gaze, a similar expression crossing his face. “Yeah, I would like to take all this off. And put on a pair of real pants.”

“Shame.” Keith teased, ignoring Lance’s disgruntled look, “I kind of liked the pants.”

“Before or after you had to tear them to make bandages?” Lance pouted, letting Keith take the brunt of his weight.

“After.”

The stern noise of a throat clearing caught both of their attentions and they looked up to see Liyana pointedly looking over their heads. “There are other people in the room.” She huffed, “Please keep it PG.”

Lance looked at her critically, his ears wiggling in Keith’s face, “That’s an Earth term. How the hell would you know an Earth term? How long was I out?”

“Not that long.” Keith consoled, “Maybe a few hours. I just got out of the pod myself. You healed kind of scarily fast, Lance.”

A frown graced his face, the emotions over the link going abruptly darker before Lance clamped down on them, only letting his embarrassment from earlier through. Keith felt guilty for even bringing it up and he adjusted Lance in his arms, pulling the taller paladin back to a standing position.

“Still didn’t explain why she knows Earth terms, mullet.” He said too brightly, turning his cat-like eyes on Liyana.

His mother stilled under Lance’s gaze, looking a bit uncomfortable with the attention. “You shouldn’t call me names in front of my mother, Lance.” Keith chuckled, the bond immediately blazing with shock and excitement.

“You found her! Or…she found you?” Lance crowed, pulling Keith into a hug, “Did you guys already do the awkward reunion thing? Did I miss it? I missed it, didn’t I?”

“Why would you want to be there for something like that?” Keith queried, looking at his lover with an incredulous look.

“Probably because you’re stuck with me.” Lance shrugged, the tiniest tendril of insecurity coming across the bond, the emotion making Keith frown. “I have to know what kind of impression to make on your mother.”

Liyana looked between the two of them, awkwardly stepping from foot to foot. “Oh my god, Keith she does the same awkward fidget thing you do when there’s too much social activity going on.”

“Your mate is very strange, kit.” Liyana stated dryly, consciously reigning in her fidgeting.

“That’s not the weirdest thing I’ve been called by the parent of my significant other.” Lance drawled, blinking his eyes at Liyana innocently, “I could be a bad influence.”

“You are a bad influence, though.” Keith said in confusion, absently letting his fingers curl around Lance’s side, “Between you and Pidge, I don’t know who gets in more trouble.”

Lance sighed dramatically. “You got me in a box there, babe.”

Keith rolled his eyes, looking to his mother with a smile. He wanted her to like him. He wanted Lance to like her.

They were both important.

“My son could have picked a worse prospect for his mate.” Liyana sniffed, a teasing look in her eyes, “And while I would love to continue to banter with you, Lance, I did actually come to the ship with a purpose beyond my apology and reunion with Keith. If you need me, I will be discussing our plans from here with your princess.”

With a formal bow and a wink to Keith, Liyana bowed out. A flush overtook Keith’s face at her wink and he looked to Lance carefully. “So about those real pants?” Lance prompted, “It’s a bit breezy right now, if you know what I mean.”

Keith sputtered out a laugh, hand descending to link his fingers with Lance’s. “You poor baby. I guess we could go get you some real pants.”

Winking at him rakishly, Lance pulled him along, the halls beyond quiet and deserted. The silence didn’t bother Keith as he let Lance lead him, content to watch as Lance walked, the fabric of the ruined pants flipping away from his thighs teasingly, the flashes of dusky skin catching and holding his attention.

It wasn’t until Lance had stopped walking that Keith realized he’d been caught staring. Lance chuckled at him and Keith could feel the flush in his face deepening when Lance moved into his space. “Didn’t really peg you as a leg man.” Lance breathed, his enthralling eyes trained on Keith’s own, “Guess I’m lucky that I was quite blessed in that department.”

Keith barely stopped himself from nodding in agreement, amusement filling Lance’s face as he let one hand rest on the scanner outside his room. The door beeped gently and Lance stepped away, hips swishing as he walked. “Mind giving me a hand? I’m not sure I can get all this jewelry off by myself.”

Nearly scrambling after his lover, Keith followed Lance into the room, the dim light making Lance glow all the brighter. They stood in silence for a moment before Keith dared to move closer, claws barely skating over the silver that decorated Lance’s skin. He looked at him carefully, cataloguing the mass of jewelry that draped artfully over the expanse of Lance’s chest. “Where do you want me to start?” Keith hesitated, almost drawing his hands back.

“I don’t care.” Lance hummed, his eyes heavy lidded, “You could start at my feet for all that it matters. I just want it gone, Keith. I want all of it gone.”

Taking his suggestion literally, he dropped to his knees, letting his gaze focus on the shackles around Lance’s ankles. After a moment of observations, he reached out carefully, clicking at the lock mechanism with his claws and letting the circle come loose in his hands. He tossed it to the side, ignoring the clatter it made when it collided with the walls.

A sigh of relief came from the boy above him when Keith unclasped the second shackle, his slender ankles free once more. Hesitantly, he looked up, mortification setting in as he realized how suggestive their positions had become. Lance peered down at him, a flush decorating his own face and Keith fought back an awkward cough.

There had to be a way to keep the mood going. Would Lance be okay with the decidedly intimate tone everything was taking? Was it too soon?

Keith didn’t know what to do.

Soft hands stroked over his ears and he leaned into them desperately, a loud purr emanating from his chest. “Don’t push it, bat boy.” Lance whispered, “You don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for.”

Gratitude flooded Keith and he made sure to push it across the bond, drowning out the uncertain feelings he had been unknowingly broadcasting. A burst of courage pushed Keith’s hands forward and he let them settle on the outside of Lance’s ankles, moving from his knees to a crouching position. Keeping eye contact with the Blue Paladin, Keith pushed himself upward, letting his hands skate along the outside of Lance’s legs, the skin impossibly soft under his fingertips.

Lance shivered under the caress, letting his forehead rest against Keith’s when Keith made it back to his feet. Letting the touch go on a moment longer, Keith pulled back, focusing his attention on the silver links attached to the ring that pierced Lance’s bellybutton.

He tugged at the ring gently, ears flicking at the involuntary noise that left Lance. “I like this one.” He purred, stifling a laugh when he felt an echo of agreement across the bond.

“You can leave the ring in.” Lance conceded, trying to pretend he hadn’t agreed with Keith’s earlier statement.

Focusing in on the jewelry connected to the ring, Keith unclasped the system of tiny chains, his claws almost too big to reach the mechanisms. One by one they fell to the floor, the tinkle of links the only noise aside from their breathing. The last chain hit the floor with a thump and Keith let his fingers trace up over the tattoos on Lance’s abdomen, the glowing surfaces almost seeming to hum under his touch. A harsh, stuttering breath left Lance and Keith felt a smirk pull across his face, letting his hands trace all the way up to where silver interrupted the pattern.

Quicker than before, Keith released Lance from the silvery prison of chains, the pile of slender links growing larger at Lance’s feet. He let his hands follow the path of Lance’s shoulders, sliding the bracelets off the curve of his arms, letting them dangle loosely around the shackles at his wrists. Keith pulled Lance’s wrists to his face one at a time, pressing a kiss to the swirl on the back of each hand before unclasping the shackles, metal circles and bracelets hitting the floor with a sharp clang.

Their fingers twined together and Keith met Lance’s eyes slowly, leaning closer. He could feel Lance’s breath on his face and he pressed forward.

Their lips met softly, the motion smooth and chaste. It was gentle and Keith reveled in the experience. Lance’s lips felt like silk underneath his own, the slight friction between the two of them only encouraging him to deepen the connection, to press harder.

One of their hands uncurled from one another and Keith purred as he felt Lance’s clawed fingers slide along his jaw and into his hair, fingers tangling with the strands.

Keith smiled into their kiss, letting his free hand slide around Lance’s side, pressing insistently at the curve of Lance’s back, encouraging their bodies to move closer to one another.

Lance followed his lead, squeezing his fingers encouragingly, even as he used his leverage in Keith’s hair to tilt his head back, pressing their chests and hips together. Lance’s lips moved against his own, that delicious friction pulling an involuntary noise from Keith’s throat.

Pulling away at the sound, Lance leaned their foreheads together, chuckling at Keith’s whine. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to be with you like this.”

“You’re right.” Keith smiled, “But if it’s anywhere as long as I’ve been wanting to do this, we’ve had a long time to get our shit together.”

Looking at him softly, the colors in his skin pulsing a soft purple, Lance smiled, a true full smile. “We’re a little hopeless aren’t we?”

“It all turned out well in the end.” Keith murmured, reveling in the press of Lance’s forehead against his own, “We got you back. Lotor’s dead and I met my mom.”

“Is he really though?” Lance queried, the tips of his claws pricking at the back of Keith’s neck when he tightened his grip in his hair, “Do we know?”

“You shot him in the chest and ripped out his eye, Lance.” Keith said sternly, “I don’t care how resilient the Galra are, he didn’t survive that. He would have needed immediate medical attention and you said it yourself. His staff didn’t like him.”

Keith stared at Lance’s closed off expression, trying to feel his way along their bond. Was Lance truly worried about what Lotor had said before? Was he worried that Lotor was still going to come after him?

After everything they did to the Galra Prince, was Lance afraid of him?

“Even if he did survive, there’s no way he could find us, Lance. We’re halfway across the universe by now.” Keith attempted, pitching his voice in a consoling way, “You’re safe.”

A quick bark of a laugh left Lance and he pulled his hand from Keith’s hair, patting him on the shoulder. “You’re right, Keith. We’re all good.”

Fear and anxiety still battered at Keith from Lance’s end of the bond and the Red Paladin looked to him critically. “There’s something else wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong.” Lance hissed, “I’m fine.”

“What are you worried about? Is it the collar? Is it everyone else?” Keith pleaded, “I can go get Pidge right now and we can work on taking it off. I can go talk to Allura.”

He could feel the tremors of emotion from Lance across the bond and Keith tried desperately to parse through it. He just wanted to know what was bothering Lance!

He wanted to help.

“It’s okay, Keith.” Lance smiled, his face completely at odds with the bond and the colors coming to mark his skin, “I’ll be alright. I’m just a little tired.”

“Bullshit.” Keith said hotly, growing frustrated with Lance’s answers.

“Why can’t you accept that when I say I’m fine?” Lance responded, anger in his voice and his own frustration leaking into the bond.

“Because I can tell what you’re feeling!” Keith raged, “You don’t have to fucking hide from me, Lance!”

“I’m not hiding.” Lance hissed, his voice dangerously low, tattoos starting to glow a dull red.

“Then why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?!”

“Because there’s nothing wrong!” Lance returned, his tone matching Keith’s in fury.

“Stop lying to me!” Keith snarled, “I can tell something’s wrong. If you haven’t forgotten, we’re kinda bonded to each other!”

Lance snorted at that, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “How could I forget?” He sneered, words sharp, “I feel you every minute I’m awake. How am I supposed to tell what emotions are mine? Why can’t you get out of my head?!”

“If I could, I would.” Keith said dangerously, pulling his hurt close to him and letting anger cover it like a shield, “Then you could go on lying to me just like you want. I wouldn’t feel like I was dying when you were gone. I could go back to normal!”

Tattoos switching to a neutral blue, Lance’s face went perfectly smooth and he turned away, his hands coming to his sharply pointed ears, working at the silver that lined their shape. “I think you should go.” He said coldly, his end of the bond oddly quiet.

“We aren’t finished talking about this, Lance. Don’t shut me-“

“I said GET OUT.” Lance roared, whirling.

Keith recoiled from his words, the Galra part of him alternating between feeling unbelievably hurt that his mate was throwing him out and feeling challenged by the way Lance was bearing his teeth, eyes and tattoos glowing brightly in the dim light.

“Fine.” He said stiffly, “Have it your way.”

He marched out the room without a backwards glance, seething. The hallways blurred together as he stomped off, his anger coming to cover his hurt quite nicely.

Why couldn’t he see that Keith was just trying to help? He wanted to help Lance figure out everything and convince him that he really was safe?

He wanted Lance to be happy again.

His feet came to a stop in the middle of the deserted training deck, body on edge and anger flooding his veins. Pulling his bayard from the armor he was still sporting, he let it activate, the solid weight of it in his hand helping to steady him.

He’d deal with what they fought about later.

Now he was going to loose his frustrations on the training gladiator.

Heaven help them.

~~~~

Lance stood in silence after Keith left, Keith’s anger and hurt broadcasting themselves loud and clear over the bond even as his footsteps faded down the hallway.

He wasn’t sure why he had reacted so violently to Keith’s prodding but all things considered, Lance knew he wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened. It hadn’t even been a full day since he was rescued.

There hadn’t been time to fully process everything.

He knew he was still scared. Lotor’s parting words had sunk under his skin and he couldn’t help but worry. What if Lotor was still alive? Haggar was on that ship. If it suited her, she could probably save him.

What if there was a tracking mechanism in the collar?

It wouldn’t matter how far away Allura piloted the ship. They’d run into a situation like when Zarkon had been tracking the Black Lion. They wouldn’t be able to hide from him.

And all the changes. Lance had been hoping desperately that the pod would be able to fix it, to put him back. He wanted to be normal again. He didn’t ask for any of this!

Climbing quickly into his mussed bed, he pulled the covers over his head, closing his eyes tightly against the glow of his tattoos.

He had just wanted to protect the boy he loved.

Was that too much to ask? Why had everything turned out this way? Why had everything changed?

With a strangled sob, he finally let his emotions wash over him, their force pushing Keith and their bond to the side. He cried deeply, mourning the loss of his old definition of normal.

He cried for the security he had lost and the identity Lotor had twisted. He cried for the pain he had suffered and shared. He cried for the changes between him and Keith, both of them nearly unrecognizable from their previous selves. He cried for their bond and how it complicated everything.

But most of all, Lance cried for himself.

A long time passed before Lance exhausted himself, eyes red rimmed and tired. He sniffled weakly and hiccupped, sitting up in his bed and letting his hands come back to the changed shape of his ears.

With a sharp wince, he gently unhooked the earrings that pulled at his skin heavily, the thick silver glinting in the light off his tattoos. When he finally had taken them all out, he gathered the studs and chain in his hand and threw them as hard as he was able, the sharp points of the earrings sticking in the metal of the wall with the force of the throw.

Lance stared at them in shock for a moment before looking to his hands. He was a lot stronger now. A heavy, hiccup-laden sigh left him and he buried his head in the cradle of his arms.

Was that a product of the genes Lotor had implanted in his DNA? Or was it something else? Did the druid change him beyond what he could see? Beyond the DNA that he’d already manipulated?

His eyes burned and Lance rubbed at them with the heels of his hands, letting his claw tipped fingers fall heavily into his lap.

While the long cry had helped his emotional state, his body felt like shit. His eyes continued to ache from the tears and his body was sore and trembling from the force of his sobs. Wearily, he climbed out of his bed, shambling over to his closet and hesitantly reaching for his pajamas.

The cool material fell into his hands like silk and he resisted the urge to rub his face over them, the familiar scent of the castle ship clinging to the cloth. He gathered the rest of his clothes quickly, flipping on the lights of his connected bathroom.

He took a few steps inside and laid his clothes on the side of the sink, looking up to the meet the eyes of his reflection.

He froze as he saw the figure in the glass, an almost different person staring back at him. Lance didn’t recognize himself in what he saw.

The reflection’s ears were long and pointy, holes ringing the outside of each wiggling ear. His hair was matted with blood and stringy, typically well-cared for curls looking beyond wrecked. Luminescent scales winked beside his eyes, the same eyes that sported a cat like pupil, the iris glowing faintly even in the lights of the bathroom.

Claws tipped the fingers that came up to prod gently at the patterns that traced down his chest, the colors ebbing and flowing a painful blue-green. Lance felt his chest go tight, breaths coming quicker as he continued to stare at his reflection.

Because that’s what it was. _His_ reflection.

This is what he looked like now. This is what Lotor had made him look like.

As he continued to stare, his own features came to meld with the new features and he could almost recognize himself in the amalgamation left over. He wheezed in a breath, red rimmed eyes threatening to overflow once more.

A knock on his door broke his staring contest with his reflection and he rushed out of the bathroom, flying to answer. The portal flew open at his approach and he nearly collided with a concerned Shiro, the older man taking one look at him before his eyes softened in understanding.

“Looked in a mirror, huh?”

Lance nodded rapidly, chest still heaving as he fought to get his breath under control. He melted when Shiro pulled him into a hug, claws clutching at the back of Shiro’s vest.

“Its okay, Lance.” Shiro said gently, the certainty in his voice helping to steady Lance, “It may not seem like it now, but it does get easier to handle.”

“How?” Lance choked, burying his face in Shiro’s chest, “I don’t even recognize myself right now, Shiro.”

“I understand.” He hummed, “There was a lot done to you, Lance, and from what I can tell, this is the first time you’ve had a chance to really come to terms with it.”

“I don’t look human, Shiro!” Lance hiccupped, “I look like some exotic species of alien. What am I going to do when we go home? Is my family even going to recognize me? What if they’re scared?”

“As sharp and pointy as you are now, Lance, you’re still you.” Shiro counseled, arms squeezing Lance tightly, “We recognized you and I’m sure your family will too. They will probably be concerned but I don’t think they’ll be scared of you.”

“Are you even looking at me right now, Shiro?” Lance demanded, pulling back, “What about this isn’t scary? Unsettling? Don’t think I didn’t see when you flinched back the first time I smiled at you.”

“That’s mostly my own problems, Lance. I did spend a year as a gladiator.” Shiro said sternly, “Sharp teeth typically meant that I couldn’t get close enough to strike without them trying to take a bite out of me.”

Ducking his head guiltily, Lance let his forehead thunk heavily against Shiro’s shoulder. “What should I do?”

“Whatever helps you heal.” Shiro mused, “Everyone does things differently. My methods likely won’t work for you and things that make you feel better wouldn’t exactly do me any favors. But I’m here for you, Lance. And I’m so proud of you for making it back to us in one piece and protecting others.”

Choking back another sob, Lance rubbed at his eyes once more. “You’re gonna make me cry again and I’m not sure if I have enough energy for that right now, Shiro.”

Shiro chuckled and rested a large hand on Lance’s bony shoulder. “It’s getting late, Lance. You should get some rest. We have a surprise for you tomorrow.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Shiro, wait, you can’t just tell me there’s going to be a surprise and then not give me a hint.” Lance whined, pouting up at the Black Paladin.

“Totally can.” Shiro grinned, the expression dimming as he peered at the blood that still crusted around Lance’s neck, “You should probably get cleaned up too.”

Lance blanched at the idea of going back into the bathroom, the mirror on the wall taunting him. “I...uh, the mirror.”

Shiro’s eyes lit up in realization and he nodded. “There’s a way to frost them out. I can show you if you’d like? That way you can face your reflection when you’re ready.”

Gratitude filled Lance and he rushed back into Shiro’s embrace, squeezing the older man tightly. Shiro yelped at the pressure and Lance pulled back sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his head. “Guess I don’t know my own strength right now.”

“When you’re feeling up to it, we can run some drills in the training deck to give you an idea of where you stand.” Shiro offered, laughing when Lance made a face.

“We were doing so well until you mentioned drills.” Lance complained, sticking out his tongue.

“You will have to get back into them eventually.” Shiro said evenly, moving past Lance to where the light was still on in the bathroom.

Lance watched him carefully, keeping to the side of the doorway so that he could still see Shiro but there would be no chance of coming into contact with his reflection once more.

He wasn’t sure if he could do that again just yet.

Shiro popped open the side of the mirror’s casing, a small panel of buttons making themselves known. He pressed in on several of them, the mirror immediately frosting over, reflecting nothing but hazy outlines of the shapes of his skin care products on the counter.

Hesitantly, Lance made his way back into the bathroom, placing his palm on the frosted glass. “Better?”

Fighting back a watery smile, Lance nodded his head. “Much. Thank you.”

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Shiro sighed, “And remember Lance. When you need us, we’re all here for you.”

Lance felt his chest lighten at Shiro’s words and he rushed out after him, looking up at the older paladin a little guiltily. “Uh, actually. You might want to swing by the training deck. Keith and I had a fight earlier and I can tell that he’s still upset. It wasn’t his fault. I know he was just trying to help but I snapped at him. Could you see if he’s alright?”

Shiro lifted an eyebrow at him before crossing his arms over his chest. “I can but you two will need to sort this out.”

Lance made a small noise of agreement, waiting until Shiro had left before returning to the bathroom. He stripped out of his ruined pants in hurry, only idly noticing that his tattoos literally went everywhere.

_Everywhere._

Pushing the thought to the back of his mind, Lance stepped into his shower. Turning the water as hot as it would go, he let it pelt over his skin, staring carefully at the drain. The pink tinged water washed away quickly and he tilted his head so that the nearly scalding water ran over his scalp.

He let the feeling of the water settle and calm him, the steam filling his lungs and making him feel like he could exhale all his troubles away. He filled his palm with shampoo and rubbed it into his hair with his fingertips, cautious of the sharp edges of his claws.

After nearly half an hour of vigorous scrubbing, Lance finally felt close to clean. He stood under the water for a moment more, watching the pattern of his tattoos ebb and flow as they wrapped around his toes.

They weren’t so bad, he guessed. The patterns themselves were kinda neat, not necessarily something he’d have chosen for himself in the event that he got the courage up to get a tattoo, but cool nonetheless. They were unique and he could appreciate how well they flattered the shape of his body.

It was a weak way of retaking what had been done to him, but he was doing his best. The longer he looked at the changes as evidence of Lotor’s hold on him, the longer he would live in self-hatred.

And Lance didn’t _want_ to live like that.

Shutting off the now lukewarm water, Lance shivered in the sudden cold, reaching out to drag several towels out of the nearby closet, wrapping himself up in the softness of the material. He dried off quickly and slipped into his pajamas, quietly reveling in the feeling of finally having his skin covered.

As well as the end to his freeballing days.

Lance padded out into his room quietly, slipping his feet into his Blue Lion slippers, towel wrapped tightly around his hair, before his stomach growled loudly, insistently reminding him that it had been quite a while since he had eaten anything even resembling something substantial.

Letting his hand curve over his stomach, he warred with leaving his room to go to the kitchen. Would it be late enough that everyone else had gone to bed?

He wasn’t quite ready to face everyone else yet.

His stomach growled once more, the hunger in his gut bordering on painful. Giving in at last, Lance toweled his hair gruffly and crept from his room, slippered feet silent.

After the hustle and presence of Lotor’s ship, the emptiness of the Castle of Lions bordered on eerie. Walking quickly, Lance pulled his robe tighter around him, a part of him on high alert.

He made it to the kitchen in record time, peering around the corner to see that the typically lively center of their lives was empty. Relaxing at last, he walked inside, abandoning the fridge to go straight to the food goo. Lance could worry about food that tasted good later.

Right now, he could eat a horse, he was so hungry.

Waiting patiently for the goo to deposit itself on his plate, Lance looked around the kitchen longingly. He could still smell Hunk’s cookies, the delectable aroma making his mouth water and stomach clench painfully. He looked to the pile of goo on his plate and sighed deeply.

“I can look to see if there are any more after this.” He consoled, murmuring to himself, “No dessert before dinner, _mijo._ ”

A smile came to his face at his mimicry of his mother, the familiar phrase relaxing his shoulders. He took a seat on top of the counter, a pilfered fork clutched in one hand and his plate of goo in the other. He tucked in with gusto, ignoring the taste in favor of filling his stomach.

After a moment he slowed, resting his head on one hand as he passed the fork from his plate to his mouth. Even as bad as it tasted, he was happy to be eating it.

He wanted another plate even!

The fork made a squeaky noise as he scraped it against the plate, disguising the footsteps of someone else. It wasn’t until he heard a sharp gasp that he looked up, fork hanging from his mouth, to see Allura in the doorway, one hand over her mouth and an empty glass in her hand.

Tension made its home in Lance’s shoulders and pulled the fork from his mouth slowly, almost unwilling to break eye contact with the princess. “Lance.” She said at last, her voice shaky.

“Princess.” He nodded, the grip on his fork almost white-knuckled.

“I…I didn’t expect to see you here.” She tried again, a bit of her previous composure returning as she broke the gaze between them, her eyes returning to the glass in her hand, “Shiro told me you were resting.”

Lance sighed at her avoidance, hurt blooming in his chest once more. “I was hungry. I haven’t had a lot to eat for the last couple days.” He said blithely, “Actually, I’m not sure if I really ate anything. I lost a lot of time.”

A stifled sound of distress left her and she walked over to the sink, keeping her back to him. Her shoulders curled in and Lance stared after her, hurt and frustration warring with one another. “Forgive me for interrupting you, Lance. We didn’t realize you hadn’t been fed. I’m sure Hunk would have insisted upon cooking for you if that had been the case.”

“Allura…” He mumbled, keeping his gaze focused on the back of her head, the tips of her ears just barely visible through her hair.

The ears that Lance now mimicked. A reminder of the race that Allura had lost.

Lotor’s perfect jab.

“Please, do go on, Lance.” She said quickly, filling her glass with water, “I apologize for barging in. I shall see you tomorrow.”

Frustration won out over the hurt and Lance bit back a hiss. “Why won’t you look at me?!” He growled, tears pricking at his eyes once more.

She froze at his words, halfway across the kitchen. “What are you talking about?”

“Allura, I’m not blind.” Lance bit out, “I can tell that you can’t stand to look at me right now. I’m sorry! I tried to stop them but nothing I did helped. I killed the druid who did this to me! But it’s not like that helped anything.”

“Why are you apologizing to me, Lance?” Allura whispered, turning slowly so that Lance could see her two tone eyes filling with tears, “How could you ever imagine that what happened was in any way your fault?”

“What was I supposed to think, Allura?” Lance murmured, taken aback by the look of grief on her face, “You wouldn’t look at me. I knew what he was doing was going to hurt you but I don’t know what to do. What can I do to make it up to you?”

She strode over to him quickly, grasping his free hand in her own. “Please. Please stop. If anything, I should be the one apologizing. I know how Lotor is. We were children together. I should never have antagonized him. If I hadn’t pushed, if I hadn’t insulted him, the idea might never have come to him.” She rushed, tears overflowing, “And my pain? Lance, they did this to you! The pain you went through must have been beyond imagining. Yes, I miss my people and yes, your resemblance to them brings me grief, but I could never place my pain above yours. I wasn’t sure how to approach you. I was worried that you might blame me. It was never my intention to make you feel this way.”

Lance looked at her blankly, unsure how to process the flood of words that had burst from the princess, her tear-stricken face pushing him to comfort her.

Despite how their relationship started, he couldn’t see her as anything other than a sister/authority figure. And right now, she reminded him very much of his older sister.

He pulled her in gently, letting her rest her forehead against his shoulder, her hands curling against his chest. Laying his head against her, he rubbed a broad circle on her back. “So we both came to some pretty dumb conclusions, huh, princess?” He croaked, feeling her let out a watery chuckle.

“What now?”

“I’d say that we figure ourselves out.” Lance sighed, “But I don’t really know where to go from here.”

Allura laughed again, a hiccup leaving her. “We could learn more about each other. You are at least part Altean now, Lance. Coran and I would be willing to teach you some things if you would like? And we want to know more about Earth. Especially your language.” She offered, leaning back so that she could look up at him sternly, “Why didn’t you tell anyone that the Castle didn’t translate your native language?”

“There wasn’t really an opportunity where it popped up?” Lance shrugged, “I’ve been speaking English for a while now so I don’t speak Spanish often. It only happened once. I panicked in the training room and forgot how to end the session in English. That’s the only reason I knew.”

“Would you be willing to teach me?”

Lance looked at her in surprise, mulling over the question. “I’m not the best teacher in the world but I could give it a shot.” He mused, “Why though?”

Allura gave him a dry look, the expression still intimidating despite the water in her eyes. “I don’t ever want to run into that situation again where you needed me and I couldn’t understand you. It was a brilliant tactical decision from you but we dropped the ball.” She explained, “The only person who seemed to be able to understand you was Keith and for your first hint, he’d been in the healing pod. If I had known your language, or understood more about your culture, I would have been able to figure out what you told us. We would have come to find you much quicker. You wouldn’t have had to suffer so much.”

Lance held still as her hands came up to prod at the tip of his ears, the sensation exceptionally strange to him. “You almost look like you could be my brother.” She laughed sadly, the light returning to her eyes in a flash of an idea.

Lifting an eyebrow at her, Lance gave her a wry smile. “Yeah, we could probably get into some trouble. If you need me to masquerade as family, I guess I could give you a hand.”

Allura giggled and stepped back, her princess composure falling firmly into place. “I’m happy that we got you back, Lance. We’ve all missed you a lot.” She said seriously, “Make sure you hurry to bed once you’ve eaten enough. We have a big day tomorrow.”

“Does it have anything to do with the surprise Shiro mentioned?” Lance blinked innocently, smirking when Allura frowned.

“Oh no, paladin. You’re not getting anything from me.” Allura laughed, stepping back, her water clutched in her hands, “I’ll see you in the morning, Lance.”

Lance watched her go quietly, the tension draining from his shoulders as her footsteps padded away.

This was nothing like what Lotor had made him fear.

Allura wasn’t disappointed in him. She didn’t regard him with disgust. She’d been worried, beyond so. All her avoidance had been guilt related.

She had thought it was her fault.

He looked down at the empty plate in his lap, appetite gone. With a heavy sigh, he set the clear plate in the sink, his fork clanging against the metal of the basin. Wearily, he made his way back to his room, falling into his bed with a grateful sigh.

Unconsciousness claimed him as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Time seemed to pass in a void as dreams pulled him in, the brightness of sound and color making him think of Varadero Beach. He could feel comfort and familiarity from Keith’s side of the bond, his own dreams making Lance calm and content.

He would apologize in the morning surely.

As the thought crossed his dreaming mind, the scene before him changed. Gone was the happiness and laughter of Varadero Beach. In its place was the cold of Lotor’s ship, a sharp pain between his shoulders and the eyes of his loved ones.

Cold, empty eyes.

Jerking awake in a panic, Lance stared at the ceiling, sweat plastering his clothes to his skin as he desperately tried to pull his breathing back under control.

He was back. He was home.

He was _safe._

No matter how often he repeated the mantra to himself, he couldn’t bring himself to believe it. He trembled in his bed, finally rolling out of the tangled mess of covers and pillows, his feet moving before he consciously made the decision to go.

He left his room, pacing quickly to the door right next to his own, hesitating outside of the scanner. His hand lingered over the mechanism, torn between the terror of his nightmare and the hurt from their earlier fight.

What if he wasn’t okay? What if the dream had been real? Should he go try someone else? Hunk? Pidge?

Shiro had offered an ear if Lance wasn’t okay.

He was so lost in his indecision that he didn’t even notice the door open in front of him, a bleary eyed Keith staring at him. “Are you gonna come in or what?”

Lance jumped at the hoarse sound of his voice, relief immediately filling him at the sight of Keith’s grumpy face, a clear indicator that he was still upset about earlier. Throwing caution to the wind, Lance dove forward, burying his face in the crook between Keith’s neck and shoulder, banding his long arms around Keith’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, “I was being a dick because I was scared. I didn’t want to burden you.”

He could feel Keith relax at his words, his own hands wrapping around Lance’s waist. He shuffled them further into his room, somehow miraculously missing the piles of stuff scattered across the floor. The door whooshed shut behind them and Keith rested his head against Lance’s hair, arms squeezing. “I didn’t think you were going to be the one to apologize.” He admitted, “I said some shitty stuff, too.”

“I can take it back.” Lance said dryly, squeaking when Keith squeezed him.

“Nope. Too late. My apology now. You can’t have it back.” Keith teased, pulling him down in the mess of blankets that made up Keith’s bed.

Lance laughed into his shoulder, letting his head fall back against Keith’s pillow, his tattoos giving the room an eerie glow. “I’m sorry too.” Keith huffed, letting his legs tangle with Lance’s as he pulled the covers up over their hips, “I wasn’t giving you any time. I just wanted you to be happy again. I thought if you confided in me, it would help.”

“That’s awful sweet of you, mullet.” Lance smirked, the expression growing into a wide smile when Keith glared at him, “Truly. But I don’t know if I’m going to be ready to talk about this.”

He pushed Keith’s back against the bed, shifting so that he could use his chest as a pillow. “I appreciate what you were trying to do but I don’t even know what I’m going to be messed up about.”

Keith purred in his chest, the vibrations under Lance’s ear making him giggle. “Well, what made you decide to come apologize at…..2 in the morning?” Keith queried, abdomen bunching under Lance’s head as he leaned up to look at his clock.

Lance huffed out a sigh, curling his claws into the fabric of Keith’s shirt. “I had a nightmare.”

The purring continued under Lance’s head and he settled against the hard slope of Keith’s chest, letting his eyes close with a flutter as Keith’s hands came to card through his curls, following the twists with his fingers.

He waited for it to set him off, to remind him of Lotor’s favored past time but it only brought him comfort, Keith’s gentle hands merely stroking. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Curling himself around Keith’s body, Lance took a deep breath, looking up to meet Keith’s half-lidded, glowing golden eyes. “I was back on Lotor’s ship. My collar was on again. I couldn’t speak and Lotor had me pinned to the floor, just like when broke my rib. I was forced to watch you die, forced to watch you all die.”

A rush of air left Keith, his other arm coming up to hold Lance tightly. “Jesus, Lance.” He whispered, “No wonder you were so scared.”

Looking up at Keith sharply, Lance recalled the link between them. “You felt it.”

“I wasn’t sure what I was feeling.” Keith admitted, “You’re difficult to understand some times. You’re a lot better about turning things off when you want to. I have to work pretty hard to figure out what you’re feeling at any given time.”

Lance rested his head against Keith once more, the steady beat of his heart underneath his ear settling the fear he’d been carrying since he woke up. “You’re basically red alert all the time. Every emotion is like you’re taking a megaphone and shouting it to me. Maybe it’s your brain’s way of making up for how little you show on your face.”

“Ha ha.” Keith said dryly, settling himself deeply into his pillows, “Try and get some sleep, princess.”

“Princess?” Lance huffed, “Confusing me for Allura already?”

“Nah. You were the one who compared yourself to that Princess Jasmine.” Keith mumbled, eyes closed and breath deepening, “You brought it on yourself.”

“Oh my god.” Lance yawned, settling against his mate, “Don’t tell Pidge.”

“Too late.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, princess.”

Sleep claimed them both quickly, no dreams coming to give their blessing.

The night passed and Lance only roused once, grasping after Keith when the other boy left the bed, a chuckle on his lips. “Get some more sleep, Lance. You need it.”

Taking Keith’s advice, Lance sank into the bed, surrounding himself with the mess of blankets that smelled like the boy he loved.

When at last he woke, Lance felt well-rested, body stretching under the blankets languidly. He looked around the well-lit room, bleary eyes alighting on a pile of clothes settled on a chair nearby, Keith’s messy scrawl adorning a note settled on top.

Almost unwillingly, Lance pulled himself from Keith’s bed and shambled over to the pile, picking up the note. A grin crossed his face as he read over Keith’s awkward words and he folded the paper once more before changing into the pile of clothes that sat on the chair.

His Earth clothes still fit like a glove and he pulled his jacket on with a flourish, padding out of Keith’s room and making his way down the hall to the common room, the sounds of life and laughter echoing through the Castle.

Everyone turned to him as he entered, faces bright as they all continued to chatter. “Took you long enough, Sleeping Beauty.” Pidge said wickedly, her grin sharp.

Lance made a face at her before directing his gaze to his blabbermouth mate, the Red Paladin perched on the couch beside his giant Galra mom, the two of them curled close together.

“Don’t look at me.” Keith grinned, Liyana laughing beside him, “Once she heard about you ‘embracing your inner Disney princess’, we couldn’t stop her.”

A snort came from the Yellow Paladin at Keith’s words and Hunk jumped to his feet, walking over to Lance with his arms outstretched. “Dude. Come here. This is happening.”

A wide smile pulled at Lance’s face and he dove into Hunk’s embrace, his best friend wrapping his thick arms around him tightly. Lance squeezed him back gently, basking in Hunk’s beautiful hug.

They stood like that for a moment before Lance could feel himself being lifted and he looked down at his best friend in alarm. “Hunk, bro, don’t. I will probably throw up on you.”

“Don’t care.” Hunk sang, launching into a spin that made Lance shriek and cling to him like a koala, the force of the spin making Lance beyond dizzy.

They stumbled away from each other and Lance confronted a blurry brown and green blur, their arm lashing out to strike him in the jaw. He curled away from her with a muffled Spanish curse, looking to Pidge as the world finally stopped spinning. Just as he opened his mouth to yell, she clutched at him desperately, her arms banding around his waist as she buried her face in his chest. “Pidge, what the hell.” He whined, one hand rubbing at his jaw while the other curled around her back.

“I promised you a face punch, you wonderfully stupid ass.” She sniffed, voice muffled from where it was buried in his t-shirt.

“I see that now.” Lance huffed, letting his other hand wrap around her, “Guess you filled your face punching quota.”

“Exceeded it actually.” Pidge chuckled, pulling away and wiping at her eyes, “I punched Keith too. He was being an emo ass.”

Lance gave Keith a searching look before looking back at the tiny Green Paladin in front of him. “She did punch me.” Keith corroborated, “I kinda deserved it.”

Allura swept forward at that, her princess composure fully in place even as her eyes sparkled with the promise of future mischief. “We brought you down here for two reasons, Lance. First, we wanted to celebrate your return and second, it came to our attention that we hadn’t made it a point to show you how much we appreciate you.”

Lance looked at her curiously before looking around the room, meeting everyone’s eyes before lifting a single eyebrow. “What Allura is trying to say is that we didn’t really tell you how much what you did meant to us. You helped keep us together when Shiro was gone and we didn’t let you know how much we appreciated it.” Hunk clarified.

“So, what the second part is all about is telling you how much we needed you, Lance.” Pidge smiled, “We want to thank you for everything you did for us and all the things we never took the time to notice.”

“You took care of the others while I was gone.” Shiro hummed, coming up to put one hand on Lance’s shoulder, “You stepped up, in more ways than one. Even if I wasn’t here to see it, I appreciate it. You’re important to us.”

“Your presence is a boon to us, Lance.” Allura continued, “I never thanked you for the times that you came to check up on me and make me laugh. So now I would like to. Thank you, Lance, for everything you’ve done for me. I hope that we can come to understand each other so much better in the future.”

Lance grinned at her, sealing the promise of future mischief even as his eyes welled with overwhelmed tears. Pidge danced up next, a package hidden behind her back. “I never realized how much you did for me until you weren’t there.” She said seriously, “It never occurred to me how many breaks you annoyed me into taking, or the meals you almost shoved down my throat. I want to thank you for being my honorary big brother, Lance. I also made you something and Coran and I are currently working on making some improvements to your new armor.”

She handed off the package, not even blinking when Lance ripped through the paper. A startled laugh left him as he looked at the file in his hands, eyebrows lifted incredulously. “A file?”

“For your claws. I figured you wouldn’t want to slice through stuff all the time.” Pidge smirked, crossing her arms over her chest, “That and I’m pretty sure you don’t want to scratch Keith up too bad.”

“Pidge!” Shiro cried, an aghast look on his face.

“Oh look, I’m up.” Keith said evenly, embarrassment transmitting itself over the bond.

He climbed to his feet slowly, the Galra woman beside him seeming almost hesitant to let him go. He walked across the room, every step making Lance’s heartbeat increase.

“While I’m thinking about it, Lance, what is purple supposed to stand for? You know, with your fun glowy tattoos?” Pidge asked, her eyes crafty.

“Nausea.” Lance blurted, “You guys are so sweet I’m going to throw up.”

Keith laughed lowly, grasping one of Lance’s hands in his own. “I never thanked you for stepping up after Shiro disappeared. You helped me plan, you helped me protect our friends. I never thanked you for helping us get Shiro back and I never thanked you for making sure that I made it back to the castle after everything that happened during the first battle with Lotor.” Keith hummed earnestly, the white feathery markings up his arms making Lance stare intently, “So thank you, Lance. For everything. I know you said that we don’t have to break even on everything but I wanted to do something for you… So I had Liyana teach me how to take your collar off.”

Lance held perfectly still as Keith reached up, barely daring to breathe as Keith’s fingers prodded at the metal of the collar, the faint vibrations of the collar against his skin making his shoulders seize with tension.

He almost backed away from Keith when large sturdy hands came to alight on his shoulders, tiny hands pulling at his pant leg. “It’s okay, little lion. You’re alright now. We’re all alright now, thanks to you.”

Maia’s voice centered him and Lance held his position, letting one hand come to rest gently atop Kore’s tiny head. After a few more moments, the metal encircling his throat sprang open and Lance barely contained a sob of relief. He took the circle from Keith happily, snapping the curves in half with a burst of strength.

Pidge and Liyana gaped at him but Keith only smiled, tossing the pieces to the side before going in, pressing their lips together in a spur of the moment kiss. A gagging noise came from the general vicinity of Pidge and Kore made an adorable cooing sound. The hands left Lance’s shoulders to pull Kore away, a half embarrassed giggle leaving the Galra woman.

“You’re a bit young for that, kit.”

Hunk cleared his throat insistently and Lance laughed at the disgruntled look on Keith’s face. “One of these days we’re not going to get interrupted by someone like that.” The Red Paladin said lowly, the intent tone of his voice making Lance’s face flush.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Lance winked, laughing as fuchsia flooded Keith’s face, his mother cackling from her perch on the couch.

“How did you even hear that?” Keith demanded, turning back to harangue his laughing mother.

Lance turned to his best friend, looking longingly at the fragrant package clutched in his hands. “I never thanked you either.” Hunk said sadly, “Not as long as we’ve been friends. Not for the times you’d come over when I needed you, not for the lessons you tried to give me in Spanish while we were in the Garrison, not for everything you’ve done for me since we’ve been out in space. So from the depths of my heart, Lance, thank you. You’re my best friend in the entire universe and I’m so happy that you’re here.”

Hunk’s admission finally tipped him over the edge and happy tears spilled from Lance’s eyes. Finally, surrounded by the love and appreciation of his space family, he could see the road from here.

It wouldn’t be easy but it would be possible.

He would be happy again.

~~~~

Haggar looked over the pod at her feet, the lines of quintessence linking her to the machine sparking rapidly.

The prince within thrashed, the empty socket of his eye and torn shreds of his face turning Haggar’s stomach even as she watched. It hadn’t been easy, not with the damages she had suffered at the hands of the paladins, but she’d found him.

He’d been barely clinging to life, the shot to his chest inches away from being an undeniably mortal wound. She’d collected him at once, gathering her strength long enough to return them to her ship.

She would save him.

She would save him and together they would collect his wayward prize. He would owe his life. And she would accept only one payment.

The Blue Paladin would belong to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap, folks.  
> I really enjoyed writing this and interacting with all of you over the course of this last month. I really appreciate all the kind words, bookmarks and kudos I've received from you and I can't wait to see where I go next in this fandom.  
> I definitely plan to continue writing for Voltron and I have a few more one-shots planned for the Songbird universe but it'll be a hot minute before I get to those as I'm going to be in Belize for the last class I need to graduate.  
> As I said before, it's been a flipping honor blazing through this monster with you and I'm both sad and happy to see it finished.  
> Until next time, guys.
> 
> Final stats:  
> 213 pages, 105,729 words and a month and a week to write.

**Author's Note:**

> And that concludes this chapter.  
> Not sure when the next chapter will be up as college is a thing but I'll do my best.  
> Thanks so much for reading!  
> Come scream with me on Tumblr. I am like neck deep in Voltron hell and completely unrepentant about it.  
> [ Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/faequeen40)  
> Oh my gosh guys, thisstupidrock on Tumblr drew a lovely fanart for Songbird. Please go show them some love!!!  
> [ Here!](https://thisstupidrock.tumblr.com/)  
> Once more I was blessed with the beauty of fanart! daifha on Tumblr drew me a lovely blue boy post decorating. [ Here! ](https://daifha.tumblr.com/search/songbird)  
> I got more fanart!!!!!!! And I'm dying!!! becoming-icarus drew me a beautiful Lance and I am beside myself!! [ Here! ](http://becoming-icarus.tumblr.com/post/160585646055/a-little-thing-i-worked-on-for-way-too-long)


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